Tempus Fugit, Memento Mori
by LouiseKurylo
Summary: AU: The CBI survives after exposure of the corrupt Blake Association law-enforcement network. Bertram has fled, Red John is dead, and Lisbon is the new CBI Director. Why do RJ and BA files go missing? Who's after Jane and why? What's next for Jane and Lisbon? This is the sequel to End of Red John / Start of a New Life - Part II.
1. Chapter 1 - Life Reset Death Unchanged

**Tempus Fugit, Memento Mori**

**Who:** **Jane, Lisbon, Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt, Danny Ruskin, Ally Turner (invented character)**

**What: Events with the CBI and Jane and Lisbon after the death of Red John and exposure of Blake**

**When: Approximately 1 year after Red John's demise (after end of season 5)**

**Where: Sacramento, other areas in California**

**Why: AU: The CBI survives after exposure of the corrupt Blake Association law-enforcement network. Bertram has fled, Red John is dead, and Lisbon is the new CBI Director. Why do RJ and BA files go missing? Who's after Jane and why? What's next for Jane and Lisbon?**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Life Reset; Death Unchanged**

Exposed as a member of the corrupt Blake Association, former CBI Director Gale Bertram had fled just over a year ago, only to be captured soon after through a nationwide FBI manhunt. Then Red John was eliminated by Lisbon's team in a righteous kill shortly after Bertram's departure. After months of indecision by the AG and governor, Lisbon was appointed Director of the CBI with a six-month probationary period.

Lisbon now was well along with successfully overhauling the CBI. As part of his work in cleaning up the multi-state Blake Association, FBI Supervising Agent Dennis Abbott had ID'd about ten percent of the CBI's detectives as BA members. With Lisbon's enthusiastic approval, Abbott indicted and removed them from their positions, scrubbing the bureau of the corruption and enabling Lisbon to start fresh. Lisbon had filled many vacancies, implemented a program to coach new team leaders, and identified agents with specialized talents to make them available to help all CBI teams. The nascent programs had already improved the closure rates and conviction stats for the CBI. Lisbon was finally secure in her position. The workload was gradually easing with the new hires and more effective team leadership.

**Cho's Team**

Cho's Special Crimes Unit had closed its case yesterday. With no new case, Cho, Van Pelt, Jane and Rigsby were enjoying a little well-deserved down time. Still short one agent, Lisbon promised Cho the chance to fill the vacancy soon, which would further ease the workload.

The group was on its way to O'Malley's for lunch. Cho and Van Pelt had already crossed the busy street**, **trailed by Jane with Rigsby bringing up the rear. Jane was about to step into the crosswalk.

"Jane!" Rigsby called as a car turned the corner heading toward Jane. Jane looked back as he stepped onto the street. Rigsby took two impossibly long strides. He yanked Jane back by his shoulder. The car came within inches, a wash of air and squeal of tires highlighting the near miss. Startled, Jane exhaled in relief.

"Geez, Jane. Watch where the hell you're going."

Suddenly pale, he gulped and muttered, "Yeah. Uh, thanks Rigs."

Cho and Van Pelt had turned at Rigsby's call and saw the car. The car didn't stop and the license plate was obscured by mud. No follow-up was possible on Jane's near miss. Once everyone was safely on the other side, they entered O'Malley's and had an enjoyable lunch. With the new call forwarding feature, no one had to stay behind to man phones anymore. They were lucky to have a relaxed lunch because all hell broke loose when they were back in the office.

**Lisbon**

Lisbon tossed her leather folder on the polished, walnut desk in disgust. Her one-on-one budget meeting with her boss was an exercise in frustration. The CBI remained understaffed from years of budget cuts and the decimation of Abbott's BA indictments. Without the needed funds, the CBI would never be fully staffed. Of course, that fact wouldn't be mentioned the next time a grisly case hit the news and officials and pundits wondered why the perp wasn't arrested sooner.

Her aide Melinda stuck her head into the office. "Mass shooting at a high school. Want me to turn on the news?" She opened the cabinet doors and clicked on the TV.

"...Bringing you the latest update on the Brownsville Central Valley High School shooting which began at about 12:30. The school is on lock-down. Police are working to evacuate the students. It appears a sniper has killed or wounded 14 students. No additional shots have been fired since about 12:45 this afternoon. But the police are taking every precaution since it is not certain whether the shooter is still out there. Names of the students injured or killed will not be released until relatives..."

Lisbon muted the TV and leaned back in her chair. _Unless this is a slam dunk, we're gonna get this case. Cho's free, so I guess they're up. Lots of air time for mass shootings. And a high school. God. Wrap it up as fast as possible before we get copycats._ Sure enough, the AG called within minutes. He had offered the Brownsville mayor every assistance and the police chief was taking him up on it. Lisbon called Cho and Forensics.

Lisbon left the office at about 8:00 p.m., briefcase full of the evening's work. Cho's team had taken a flight to Brownsville that afternoon, so Jane was long gone by the time Lisbon opened the apartment door. Their apartment felt empty without him, but she could put the uninterrupted time to good use. She had moved into Jane's apartment eight months ago and neither advertised that fact nor denied it. Jane now reported to Cho. Blessedly, the swell of gossip had died down once the novelty of their new living arrangements wore off. Despite regular suggestions by Jane, Lisbon literally didn't have time to get married as CBI director was an all-consuming job. At least so far.

The phone rang at about 10 p.m., just as Lisbon was wrapping up her work. She was too tired to do more. She _could_ work on the next task tonight for another three hours. Or, she could get it done in one after a good night's sleep.

"Hi, Jane. ... Just wrapping up. ... Yes, I had dinner. ... For heaven's sake, stop nagging. I'll eat before I shower, okay? ... How's the case?" She grimaced at the thought of 14 deaths. And the impact those deaths would have on Jane, whose daughter would have been about high school age. "Huh. So you don't think it was a student? ... Well, Cho will brief me tomorrow first thing. Then I'll have to give something to the press. ... Yeah. ... Jane, I know this is hard. Get some sleep? ... Miss you, too. Love you. ... G'night."

The job was hard and demanding. Jane was ... Jane. But she had never been happier. This was her shot at fixing things in the CBI that had gnawed at her for years. And she and Jane were finally together, minus one evil serial killer.


	2. Chapter 2 - Coincidence

**Chapter 2: Coincidence**

**Cho's Team**

The four of them sat around the Formica table in their temporary headquarters eating McDonald's. Their relief at the food and break was mute testimony to their tedium and frustration. It was the second Monday since the shooting and they had gotten precisely nowhere on the case. Brownsville was a small town in a rural county. They found the shooter's location fast enough. But the bullet casings were from ordinary ammunition used by literally thousands of hunters in the area. They were grinding their way through twelve hundred students and one-hundred-and-fifty teachers and staff: Four per hour, eleven hours a day. Cho had even forced Jane into doing the interviews to finish the basic data collection that much faster. Of course, nothing about interviewing 1,350 mostly-irrelevant witnesses could be described as fast.

Jane drifted as Cho laid out the mechanics of splitting up the work and next steps on the case. He idly wondered if Van Pelt had told Rigsby she was pregnant yet. Watching them interact, he decided she knew but was waiting to tell him after the case. She wouldn't want happy news like that tainted by the sorrow and horror of the deaths of 14 young people, No, not just deaths, deliberate murders. He resolutely shut the door on the obvious parallels with his past, knowing that door would be flung wide when he tried to sleep just as it had been the previous 11 nights...

"Jane? Jane!" Cho's voice cut through his musings.

Jane glanced up.

"Any ideas, so far?"

Jane shifted in his chair. "There's something about the mix of students that's 'off,' but I can't pin it down yet. Anyhow, the male-female breakdown is quite lopsided - highly improbable if it was random mass murder."

"Yeah, except we don't know it was purely random. Anything different we should be asking about?" Jane shook his head so Cho tuned to the next topic.

"Van Pelt, how's the database coming?" A computer database was necessary with 14 victims, 1,350 witnesses, and innumerable possible elements in common: Friendships, enemies, romances, school activities, non-school activities, teachers, and on and on.

"I've got everything entered up through yesterday."

"Knock off at four so you have time to pick up today's info." She nodded. He glanced at his watch. "Let's get on with it. We'll go over today's work over dinner, around seven."

Six p.m. and the last interview was done for the day. Jane checked Van Pelt's database for an address and took off, deciding to skip dinner in favor of following a hunch. Getting no answer, he left voicemail on Cho's phone before leaving. It was dusk when he finished talking with Susan Bower about her twin brother, who had been killed in the shooting.

Traffic was light on the rain-slicked roads. Part of his attention was devoted to fitting pieces of evidence into a theory that was finally coming together. A pick-up truck pulled alongside then clipped the left front fender of Jane's SUV. It disappeared down an exit ramp to the right as Jane instinctively braked. The brakes pulled to the right and the SUV spun out. It crashed sideways into the guardrail in the opposite lane and came to a stop. Stunned, Jane realized the airbag had deployed. He caught his breath, relieved to find he was shaken up but not hurt. Surveying the damage, he found the SUV was driveable although banged up. Glancing around, he was grateful the guard rail stopped him from a plunge into the steep ravines on either side of the road. He shrugged if off with a shudder.

After declining help from a driver who stopped, Jane cautiously started the SUV, turned around to head in the right direction, and drove back to their motel. It was eight p.m. when he told Cho the bad news about the SUV. There was nothing to go on with the accident – no witnesses, generic black pick-up truck, no helpful details Jane could remember. Jane deflected Cho's suggestion that he get checked out, insisting he only needed aspirin and a night's sleep. He'd get one of those, at least.

**Lisbon**

"...My CBI team is working hard with local police to identify the assailant. ... No, I cannot go into details at this time. –Please keep in mind the large number of people to be interviewed. ... No more shootings. ... We cannot predict when we'll make an arrest. Innumerable leads are being checked out. ... No known motive. ... Yes, it is one of our best teams, although we strive to ensure every CBI team is effective. ... Thank you. No more questions at this time."

Finally inside the building and hidden from the cameras, Lisbon grimaced at the predictable, banal questions. _Of course we're doing everything we can. Of course we're busting our asses trying to get a mass murderer. Geez!_ She shook her head, disappointed she had been unable to avoid the invidious comparisons that undermined bureau cohesion and cooperation. _Yeah, Cho's team is our best, but I'm sick and tired of the media making it some kind of competition. Some kind of marker of how much we __care__ about a case. Asses._ Her mouth quirked at the faint echo of Minelli's long ago press conference. She snorted to herself. _Horse's assery. Indeed._ She sighed. _Christ, at least they didn't bring up Jane and me. Maybe they've let that go at last._ Her personal life finally, finally seemed to have faded from the lurid, predatory imaginations of the media pack. She knew it might come up once they realized Jane was part of the CBI team investigating the case. _Not Jane's fault he's great on camera, complete with a personal tragedy that hypes ratings every time they show his face._

She hurried back to her office to look over her notes before her next meeting. She missed the field work and regretted the unending series of meetings required by her job._ Of course it's work. No one would willingly sit through hours of boring meetings without being paid to_. Despite its mind-numbing aspects, being director enabled her to make big improvements in the CBI. Ultimately if indirectly, those changes would pay off in solving and even preventing crime on a far larger scale than leading one SCU team. She reminded herself of that at least once a day.

Fortunately, she had a relief valve. She eagerly looked forward to times when she accompanied recently-promoted team leaders as part of her new vetting and coaching program. Justified and necessary for the CBI, it also was a huge relief for her personally. Once, Jane even worked the same case through the specialist sharing program. He behaved, it worked out, and she enjoyed it immensely as well as accomplishing her goal of providing useful guidance and training to that team leader.

Of the five team leaders she had hired or promoted, three were solidly coming along, one was struggling, and one promised to be outstanding. And then there was Cho, Cho was already more than competent and well on his way to being a star. As importantly, eight months after his promotion, he and Jane had hammered out a successful working relationship. Jane continued to (help) solve cases with his usual speed and brilliance while Cho prevented him from destroying himself, the CBI, Cho's career, or Lisbon's career. That alone was an outstanding accomplishment. It helped that Jane was generally happier and less crazed. Jane was happier because he and Lisbon finally were a couple, enjoying their present and anticipating their future. And his obsession with revenge had finally burnt itself out with the demise of Red John at his (and the team's) hand. Red John was quietly moldering six feet under, along with the many disciples Bret Stiles had dsipatched to protect Visualize.

Many hours later, Lisbon tossed her keys into the bowl on the foyer table and unstrapped her holstered gun. She had brought work home, but didn't plan on doing it unless she couldn't sleep. She hurried through a light dinner, wanting to be done with nighttime ablutions before the calls from Cho and Jane. Normally she was briefed on case progress by team leaders in the morning. Cho was calling her at home because it was a high profile case. She didn't want to be blind-sided by the press as the work unfolded.

"Hi, Cho. Brief me. ... So all the initial interviews are done and you have the ME's report? ... No motive or suspects? ... But he's not ready to lay it out, yet. Figures. ... What?! He's okay? ... You should have called as soon as you found out. ... Sorry, Cho. You know how he is, he attracts trouble. ... That's all right. When I'm done he's not gonna forget to call me next time. ... Thanks. Good night."

Her phone rang again a short while later.

"Hey, missed you too. -Why the hell didn't you tell me you were in an accident? ... I don't care about Grace being pregnant. Don't change the subject ... I never trust you where medical care is involved. ... Yeah, well, just be glad Cho backs up your claim you're okay. ... Isn't a hit and run kinda suspicious? ... Cho thinks you're close to figuring it out. ... Jane, it'd be great if you have something tomorrow. The press is hyperventilating as usual. Fifteen minute updates with zero new information. ... Now, tell me about Grace. ... Of course I'm interested now that I'm done yelling at you for hiding the accident. ... That's creepy that you know before Rigs. ... Before Grace? I don't need to hear that. ... Promise you'll keep your mouth shut till Grace can tell him. ... Me? I'm okay. ... No, not a two chocolate bar day. A few things actually went well in the bowels of the bureaucracy. ... You sound tired. Are you getting any sleep? ... Wish you were, too. Maybe you'll get a break soon. ... Love you. Get some sleep."


	3. Chapter 3 - It Isn't What You Don't Know

**Chapter 3: It Isn't What You Don't Know, It's What You ****Think**** You Know (But Don't**)

**Lisbon**

Cho called and briefed Lisbon before she had to face the press mid-morning. She was grateful they had a viable theory, something better than wading through 1,350 people with no direction.

"... I cannot provide details on the investigation. However, there is progress and my agents are checking out a promising lead. ... Ted, you know sharing details would just alert the perpetrator, so of course I cannot be more specific. ... I brief the governor's office and AG daily. The CBI has complete support for this investigation. Resources aren't a problem at this time..."

Press conference over, Lisbon took a call from the ADA concerning the prosecution of some Red John followers. Bret Stiles hadn't quite gotten to all of them. Evidence from Haffner's home and storage locker implicated several men who survived and were wending their way through the California justice system. She reflected again how grateful she was that the investigations into the multi-state Blake Association and the international Visualize cult – "religion" if she were being politically correct – were Abbott's headache. She was restoring the CBI to its former high level of excellence, but it was not the right bureau to investigate criminal organizations that spanned the country or world.

"What can I do for you Mark?"

"You can help me locate the Red John files I need for the upcoming cases."

"We haven't had anything to do with Red John for six months. We finished working through the evidence from Haffner and referred the cases to your office for prosecution."

"Well, the files have disappeared. We have the evidence needed for our cases, but I planned on reviewing the files before we get to trial."

"Sorry. Can't help you."

"What about Jane? He was always at the center of Red John. Would he have any of the stuff?"

She sighed. "I doubt it. No reason to. Who signed the files out, anyhow?"

"That's the thing. The signature is illegible. After so many months, the records clerk doesn't remember. Are you sure about Jane?"

"Mark, I'll ask. But Jane had the Red John files memorized, for heaven's sake. Even if he wanted to check on something, he wouldn't even need the actual files."

"Call tomorrow and let me know?"

"Sure. Sorry you're having a problem." About to hang up, she hurriedly added, "Mark, if you just need to verify some details or check the logic, maybe Jane can help you. He really does have a near photographic memory when he intentionally memorizes stuff. Think about it. I'll call tomorrow."

Lisbon worked through her day, preparing supporting documentation for the budget battles going on in the Capitol. Getting Red John almost – _almost_ – balanced out the PR nightmare from exposing the Blake Association. The CBI was still trying to get out from under the black mark of Gale Bertram, Director of the CBI, being a BA member. However, she could tell she was starting to win over the press. News reports involving the CBI had gotten steadily more positive over her eight month tenure. She scoffed at the superficiality of it all, but recognized that her relative youth and attractiveness didn't hurt any, especially on TV. There was a good chance she would get the budget she needed to continue reforming and restoring the CBI. Some good news on the mass murder in the high school would certainly help, but she refused to even mention that to Cho. She knew they were working as hard as they could. She was damned if this position was going to turn her into a Bertram.

She left later than usual, getting home just in time for the calls from Cho and Jane.

**Cho's Team**

The group sat around the table pondering the crime board crowded with fourteen victims (the two who had "just" been wounded died of their wounds). Yearbook photos taken months earlier had to be used on the crime board because all but two of the fatal wounds were to the head. The bullets were hollow point, which spread and made a fist-sized hole upon impact. Several victims' faces were unrecognizable. The 12-hour days, seven days a week were taking a toll. All looked ragged with Jane especially so, even allowing for the car accident. He never slept well whenever the victims reminded him of his family. Nonetheless, he had developed a theory he was willing to share.

"Look. Eleven of the 14 were female. All of the 11 were shot in the head. The other three were male and they were the only ones wounded in other places–" Jane was arguing.

"Yeah, except one of the males also was killed with a head wound. Doesn't work, Jane."

"Cho, that's the hunch I checked out last night. Sean Bower was the twin brother of Susan Bower. They looked alike. Both dressed in black, uh, Goth style. Most importantly, both had similar hairstyles."

Van Pelt interjected, "I interviewed Susan Bower and her hair looked nothing like his," she said pointing to the crime board photo.

"Not so fast. Her hair looks nothing like his in his yearbook photo." Jane passed around his cell phone which had a photo of Susan Bower he took last night. "She said their parents forced him to clean up for his senior photo. Since then he went back to normal. Susan said his hair was the same color, long, and tied in the back just like hers is now."

Rigsby frowned. "You're saying her brother was shot because he was mistaken for her. But I don't get it. She would be kind of the oddball among the female victims."

Van Pelt picked up his thought, "Yeah. The other girls look preppy. Cute, money. The kind who make the cheerleading squad, homecoming queen, run the school, snub the outsiders. Susan Bower Goth-girl would stick out like a sore thumb."

"Which fits my theory. This was revenge, not random mass slaughter. A guy spurned by the in-crowd girls. It's no accident most of the victims were female and that the fatal shots were to the head. The two male victims were shot in the abdomen and chest. They were accidents – moved the wrong way as the shot was fired."

"And Bower?"

"Bower is the key. Bower is the girl our spurned guy actually went out with. He meant to kill her for dumping him, but accidently killed her twin brother."

"Kinda thin, Jane."

"You're the boss, Cho. We can check this out or start on brute force investigations of a thousand plus witnesses with no way to narrow the field."

"Let's focus on Susan Bower. Van Pelt, find out who she's dated during high school. And if you're right, Jane, making all 12 head shots is pretty good shooting. We're looking for a marksman. Rigs, check the school's gun club and see if there are any private clubs in the area. It's rural, so a lot of gun owners won't bother to go to a shooting range, but try it anyhow."

Jane added, "There's nothing that says the gunman is still in high school. What about graduates, especially those who joined the military?"

"I'll take those. We need to go back four years to get anyone who might have overlapped with the current student body. Jane, go with Van Pelt. When you're done with Bower, talk to the friends of the female victims and see if anyone remembers a guy who might fit the profile-"

Jane added, "Not money, not in-crowd. Probably a loner. Probably not particularly handsome. You want to take note if anyone spontaneously uses adjectives like resentful, creepy, angry-"

"Thanks, Jane. We know."

They reconvened at the end of the day. They had an even dozen names, but four appeared on several of their lists. One was military, one ex-military - dishonorable discharge. One guy was a student who transferred mid-year. And the last was a drop-out. They would check them out the next day. Cho called Lisbon with the encouraging news. Idly watching the news shows he could tell everyone from the CBI up to the governor was feeling the heat. By Friday, it would be three weeks since the shooting.

Jane relaxed on the lumpy motel bed, tired but cheered at the though of talking to Lisbon.

"Director Lisbon, how is your eminence tonight? ... Yeah, me too. I see from the news you're getting pressure from the press. Did Cho tell you? ... Nothing definitive, but I think we're on the right track. ... Tomorrow. We've got 12 names of which four come up repeatedly. ... Doing okay? ... Hey, neither a chocolate nor bear-claw day. Must be getting somewhere. ... Why would I have any Red John files? ... Huh. No, I have no idea. ... Sure, if he has specific questions. I'd rather not go through dozens of files for 30-plus murders. ... Actually, I'd rather not go through them at all, but I will if necessary. ... I'm beat. Looking forward to wrapping this up. ... Just a few bruises. I told you yesterday it was nothing. ... I will. Can't wait to sleep with my favorite Director. ... Both meanings. Need to get back soon before I forget how. ... I'd like that. I pick up fast. ... Love you, too."

He dropped his cell on the nightstand and slid down the headboard into the pillows. Three weeks in the field on a high school mass murder was grueling. He couldn't wait to get back to the love of his life. He smiled softly at the thought. She had been due before he left, and was now three weeks late. No chocolate or bear-claw days. A warm thrum of pleasant anticipation ran through him at the possibility. About to doze off he thought that life might just have gotten a little more perfect.


	4. Chapter 4 - Lifeline to the Future

**Chapter 4: Lifeline to the Future**

**Cho's Team**

Two days later Jane unconsciously tried to shove his balled fists through his jacket pockets as he listened to the ninth of the 12 suspects. In a nod to fairness and proper investigative protocol, Cho had ordered all 12 be questioned. Jane would have focused on the four _prime_ suspects but he couldn't assure Cho beyond a shadow of doubt that their shooter was one of the prime four, or that only one person was involved. Besides, it took a while to locate and bring in the key four. Local law enforcement was a big help in chasing them down. Cho appreciated the help. Not only did it reduce the work for his exhausted team. But it also gave him something favorable to say about the local cops at the wrap-up press conference he would have to do with Lisbon. Currying favor with the press ... or locals ... didn't come naturally to Cho, but as team leader he was learning. It was far easier to find something positive - and truthful - to say than avoid awkward follow-up questions from the press, or, apologize to p.o.'d officials.

So they interviewed each of the 12 as they were located and brought in. Jane eliminated the first four. The fifth, the student who had transferred, gave him pause because he was unmistakably guilty of something. That something turned out to be spreading nasty rumors and photos about a female student on the internet. This one, the ninth, was different. Jane nodded and left the rest of the interview to Cho. Jane escaped the interrogation room before he was so nauseated he would lose the remnants of his breakfast. Or the remnants of his self-control. A pathetic, self-pitying drop out had robbed 14 teenagers of their futures. And the lives of their innocent families would forever be blighted by unforgettable horror. Jane knew that for a fact.

The next day they questioned and ruled out the remaining three from the list of 12. It was late afternoon when the hard evidence and the rifle needed for a conviction were located and turned over to forensics. Cho called and briefed Lisbon. She would have enough information for a short press conference in time for the evening news. There would be a full-blown conference at 10 a.m. the next morning that Cho would have to attend.

The team packed up their equipment, checked out of the dreary motel, had a quick dinner, and made their way to the little airport. Because of delays in connecting flights, they wouldn't get to Sacramento till about 2 a.m. Cho disabused the team of any notion of driving the 300 miles back as they were all exhausted. Of course, Jane was the hardest to rein in even though he was the most exhausted after three weeks with little sleep. Peeved and unreasonable, Jane walked away to sulk.

Jane returned an hour later with an offer they couldn't refuse. He had struck up a conversation with the pilot of a corporate jet. The pilot was taking the jet back to Sacramento to pick up executives the next morning. The pilot offered them a lift after learning they were the ones who had solved the high school mass shooting (he had relatives in Brownsville). Cho decided that would square with the new, rigorously _enforced_ rules about accepting gratuities from the public, so long as the CBI paid for the extra fuel. (Lisbon and LaRoche had formed a formidable alliance in beating back all sorts of corruption in the CBI. Cheesy corner-cutting was not a hill Cho deemed worth dying on. Any good will or favors he could muster would be needed for bigger problems, now that he was responsible for Jane.) As it turned out, the cost of the fuel was less than their tickets would have been for commercial flights. Putting up with Jane's self-congratulatory smirk was less annoying than the extra three hours in transit would be. The four gratefully accepted the pilot's offer and got into Sacramento at 11 p.m.

**Lisbon**

Budget haggling dominated the week. Lisbon spent hours at the Capitol providing detailed defenses of the accomplishments, plans, and budget requests for the CBI. It didn't help that the Blake Association remained an active FBI investigation, which kept the CBI from firmly closing that door on the past. Even when she wasn't testifying to various oversight committees, she had to patiently sit by to provide information to her boss and friendly politicians as ad hoc questions arose. She found it tedious and draining even though she brought other work to do as time permitted.

By Thursday, both Lisbon's patience and energy were running low. It was still uncertain if she would get the budget she needed to continue restoring the CBI. Cho's late-afternoon call at having made an arrest on the mass shooting was fortuitous. Suddenly, formerly resistant committee members were eager to vote favorably, thrilled to provide positive on-air comments about how they supported the fine work of the CBI. An ocean of words gushed forth about endorsing the overhaul of the CBI so it again would be the standard of excellence for California law enforcement.

Lisbon smiled politely at the various, mostly-complimentary comments by state senators, assemblymen, and their staffs. Comments by state Senator Chisholm made more of an impression. He drew her aside to comment on her inspired timing in solving the mass shooting and urged her to remember that "one hand washes the other." She escaped further _pleasantries_ without losing her temper at the thought of "managing" a mass shooting investigation for the political advantage. _Jane would say not all sociopaths are murderers – some just go into politics._ Lisbon found it daunting to follow Bertram's scummy political wheeling and dealing. She would have to cope with the politics without getting dragged down into the sewer where Bertram had been so comfortable. Lisbon wasn't sure what Chisholm might eventually want, but resolved to keep up her guard. He made her skin crawl – never a favorable sign.

That evening Lisbon made a pro forma appearance at a post-legislative session reception. The state's budget had been hammered out and blessed by the powers that be. Staff would clean up the remaining details. And the governor would sign it with minor adjustments. Lisbon didn't enjoy the glad-handing and politicking but knew it was a necessary part of her job. The informal connections and general good will were invaluable for working within the system. This was just as necessary for her to defend the CBI as the less pleasant aspects of being a team leader had been to protect her team. If the CBI law-enforcement agents were expected to put their lives on the line for their jobs, she could hardly do any less than her best. She got home by 9 p.m., took a leisurely bath, and turned in early. The team wasn't due back till 2 a.m., so there was no point waiting up for Jane. She left a dim lamp on in the living room for him.

**Lisbon and Jane**

The deadbolt slid home with a dull click as Jane locked their apartment door behind him. Lisbon stirred, noting the time was just midnight – earlier than she expected him. She got up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and padded into the living room to greet him. Jane had dropped his carry-on by the door. They hugged. He buried his nose in her hair and she breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of her partner, lover and would-be husband. He half-slumped and she realized she was supporting a noticeable portion of his weight. They kissed, his kiss more relief and comfort than passion. She pulled back a little and looked him over. He was exhausted, pale.

"C'mon, Jane. Let's get you to bed."

Jane didn't argue, didn't bother picking up his carry-on. He silently followed her into their bedroom, stumbling a bit on the lip of the runner over the hardwood floor. After a brief stop in the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth, he felt his way to his side of the bed in the darkness. He toed off his shoes, shed jacket and vest, and was asleep upon contact with the bed.

"Oh, Jane," she said softly. She hung his jacket and vest on the chair and dragged the covers over him. She brushed his hair off his face and kissed him good night.

They woke at an ungodly hour. Lisbon shook Jane awake, his rough breathing, agitation and slurred words of anguish all too predictable after being immersed in the gory case for three weeks. She pulled him close, his arms automatically clasping her tightly to him. His breathing gradually quieted, and he kissed her neck and face in thanks. After a long, shuddering sigh, he got up knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep again for awhile. Lisbon followed him into the kitchen where he was making tea. He held up his cup, mutely offering. She shook her head and loosely hugged him around the waist from behind, relishing the physical contact after three long weeks. He turned and she let go, both moving to the living room couch. After setting the tea on the side table, he stretched out, back propped against a corner of the couch with legs extended. He offered his hand and she settled between his legs, back against his chest.

He sighed. "I missed you during this godawful case, Teresa."

"I missed you, too. I'm glad you nailed him."

"Yeah. . . .Eleven were girls." He swallowed, the lump in his throat painful. "Head shots."

"Cho told me." She waited, then decided to ask. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nothing new." He idly stroked her hair. "The girls, the blood everywhere, their ages. Just brings it all up again. I was dreaming about those girls, not, not-"

"Shhhh. It's okay." She looked up at him and he dipped his head for a comforting kiss.

He hugged her tighter. "When I'm with you I can remember the good times with them."

"I'm glad, Patrick." She was eager to share her news, but it wasn't the right time. She turned slightly, face resting on his chest above his heart. His breathing slowed and deepened, his heartbeat slowed as well as he relaxed into the simple pleasure of holding and being held.

Softly, "Patrick?"

"Mmm?"

"May I ask you something?"

He roused slightly, opening his eyes and raising his eyebrows. He smiled at the grade school joke, "You're asking if you can ask. What, my dear?"

A little hesitantly, "You're great with children. But I've always wondered about the appeal of babies. I mean, when they're so young it's mostly taking care of them. It's not like you can have a conversation or teach them magic tricks."

She could feel his smile in the kiss he planted on the side of her neck, and was relieved he wasn't upset at the question.

"You know I like puzzles?"

"Of course. Fundamental Patrick Jane."

"Well, babies are the most wonderful puzzle imaginable. A mystery all wrapped up in a new human being. . . . What will his personality be like? How does she begin to make sense of the world? When will he connect words with physical objects, not to mention abstract concepts like love or play?"

"What a soft touch," she said gently, warmly, thinking about how it might be for them.

"Don't tell anyone. It'll ruin my image."

"Hey! There's only one direction that image can go."

"Hmph." He took a deep breath and added fuzzily, "Plus they're a lifeline to the future. Leaving something worthwhile to justify taking up space ... for eighty years or..."

He was beginning to drop off again. Lisbon got up and tugged his arm. "C'mon. You'll rest better in bed. And lose the pants and shirt this time."

He stretched and yawned. After several hours of sleep he was merely tired rather than exhausted. Still, more quality time with his bed was powerfully appealing after three weeks of sleepless nights. "Lisbon knows best. Cho said we could come in late. Think I'll take him up on that." She kissed him as he snuggled down into the pillows and comforter, quickly asleep.

She had only an hour before it was time to get ready for work. Instead of going back to bed, she decided on a leisurely morning. It would be time for work all too soon.


	5. Chapter 5 - Disrupted

**Chapter 5: Disrupted**

**Lisbon and Cho**

Lisbon gave a brief overview before letting Cho take questions from the media. She knew he actively disliked press conferences and didn't care. Rather, she did care. She considered poise and ability to deal with the press a necessary evil for a team leader and, eventually, higher positions should he want one.

"... My team includes Agents Wayne Rigsby and Grace Van Pelt, along with CBI Consultant Patrick Jane. ... No, they all contribute equally. ... " Lisbon thought that question was worthy of Kremlinology – the old days when the West tried to divine events in the Soviet Union by whom was standing next to whom, by attendance at important meetings, by the officials marching in the show parades. She wondered sourly if the press would soon slaughter chickens and read their entrails for insights into the CBI. _Why can't they just accept it's a team accomplishment? Damn the divisiveness and obsession with the CBI's internal functioning!_ In calmer moments she recognized that the Blake Association mess triggered the press's intense interest in the bureau's internal affairs, and that it would be a long time before statements would be accepted at face value.

Her attention returned to the latest question. She could see Cho's impassive demeanor crack a bit as he answered the question. "It took 'so long' because there were fourteen victims and one-thousand-three-hundred-sixty-nine witnesses and suspects to interview. ... Yes, I'd like to thank Police Chief William Scott for his support. His officers located and brought in the final dozen suspects, including the man we arrested, Joseph Leitner. Mr. Leitner is a former student of the Central Valley High School who is believed to have pursued a personal grudge against most of the victims. ... Forensics verified the bullets which killed the victims were shot from a rifle recovered at his home. His fingerprints match those on the bullet casings found at the location the shots were fired. There is other evidence, but we consider that definitive. ... We referred the case to District Attorney Osvaldo Ardiles. You'll have to speak to him about how the case will be prosecuted. ..."

Lisbon stepped in again. "No more questions for now. There will be a press conference on Monday for any further questions. Thank you."

Lisbon patted Cho on the shoulder once they were inside.** "**Good job, Cho. Avoid reacting to the stupid questions and you'll be fine." She decided she didn't hear his muttered 'Aren't they all stupid?' and changed the subject. "Cho, let's talk about a new assignment before you go back." Lisbon now occupied Bertram's old office in the Capitol. It put her near the AG and DA's she needed to work with, but she still found it annoying not to be in the same building as her CBI teams.

He settled into a chair across from her desk and decided to speak up before Lisbon launched into the new assignment, whatever it was.

"Boss, can you give my team a break before another assignment? It's been a heavy three weeks and we don't even have the paperwork done."

"Cho, I can give your team a commendation and a break. The new assignment won't begin till Wednesday, after I fire Jason Porter. By the way, you can't tell anyone till Wednesday."

"Porter. He's a team leader in fraud, right?"

"LaRoche discovered he's been taking kickbacks from insurance companies. He's thrown cases, dismissing some fires as arson so the insurer doesn't have to pay up. LaRoche also suspects he's covered up some arson cases to punish insurers who won't play ball."

"Blackmail as well as fraud. –What's the assignment?"

"I don't know how far it extends into the fraud division. It's not even clear who on his team is dirty. I need you to poke around, look into the cases he's recently closed, figure out which insurers are knowingly conspiring in the fraud."

"I don't know a lot about fraud or arson. And I thought corruption was LaRoche's specialty."

"You'll have Rigsby who does know arson, and Jane who should help sort out the crooked from the straight agents." She snorted and added, "Jane may have a feel for instances that might be fraud, too."

"And Van Pelt?"

"She's been requested for specialized computer help by the forensic accountants."

"Exactly what are we supposed to deliver?"

"I want you to study the cases solved by Porter's team over the last year or so. Flag cases that don't smell right. See if there's a pattern of the involved insurers. I'm less concerned about a crooked individual insurance agent than systematic fraud that reaches higher levels. Whatever you find we'll turn over to LaRoche in three weeks."

Knowing LaRoche and Jane, Cho decided to ask. "Does LaRoche really want the team or just Jane? I have a problem if Rigs and I are window dressing."

"That's my call. I _told_ LaRoche his best shot at getting useful information is from the team. Jane can't pull useful insights out of thin air. You three are the right mix to uncover useful data and chase down the possibilities."

"Okay. Thanks, Boss." Lisbon closed the file and handed it to him. Cho got up to leave.

"Oh, Cho?" He turned. "Here are the complaints from the last case." She grinned, appreciating Cho's accomplishment in figuring out how to work with Jane, but also appreciating that – with rare exceptions – Jane-complaints were now someone else's headache. Specifically, Cho's.

A corner of Cho's mouth twitched. "Thanks," he dead-panned.

**Cho's Team**

Cho returned to the CBI building the same time Jane strolled in. Cho wasn' t overly solicitous, but he took responsibility for his team seriously. Just as in the Rangers, there was good reason to avoid grinding team members down to the point of exhaustion – physical, mental or emotional. Cho noted that Jane looked a lot better than he had during the case and internally relaxed. In 11 years of knowing him, Jane had never lacked for brilliance, but his greater stability was a new and welcome result of ridding the world of Red John and (finally!) getting together with Lisbon.

"Hey, Cho."

"Hey, Jane. Here are your complaints. Answer them by the end of the day before our closed case dinner."

Jane made a low growling noise, but accepted the three folders from Cho.

Lisbon became the CBI Director and Cho the SCU team leader eight months ago. Lisbon had made no bones about leaving Cho and Jane to arrange a functional working relationship that did _not_ involve her. It didn't take long for Cho to lay it on the line to Jane. _Unlike Lisbon, you're not my type and I have no interest in covering for your crap. Avoid pissing people off. Or get used to making your own apologies. Your choice. _Jane's half-hearted resistance caved when it was clear Cho would sooner live with a lower close rate than make Jane's apologies. Losing daily contact not only with Lisbon but also the team was a price too high and, for once, Jane gave in. Accepting Cho's ultimatum, Jane immediately minimized the hassles for himself. He finally found a use for the desk next to his couch. He even found a use for a computer in selecting canned paragraphs of apology for letters responding to complaints. He didn't like any of it, though. And he exploited the new opportunities for amusement by negotiating with Cho over who would apologize if complaints were a necessary side effect of solving the case. Still, the total number of complaints fell and Cho handled far fewer apologies than Lisbon had. This was one of the three conditions Cho imposed for Jane to be on his team.

A few minutes later he announced, "Done. New record. One minute thirty-four seconds per letter." An elderly administrative assistant two departments over would print the letters and envelopes and put them in the mail. Her thanks was a full megawatt smile from Jane and lunch once a month.

Cho looked up from his desk. "They better get the job done. If they come back to me you're gonna grovel in person." True to his convictions, Cho wanted no barriers between himself and the team. He used Lisbon's office for a conference room and for conversations which had to be private. His desk remained where it had always been, just surrounded by more filing cabinets.

"Grumpy, grumpy. Can always tell when it's press conference day, Cho. You should work on that."

"Just go to sleep, Jane. Some of us have work to do."

"Yes, sir," he responded mockingly and settled onto his couch, stirring only to watch as Rigsby and Van Pelt came in. _Yep,_ s_he told him. Ahhh, guess I should keep quiet till they say something or Lisbon's gonna kill me._

* * *

The closed case pizza tradition still involved pizza, but they now went to a restaurant whenever possible. Pizza turned into reminiscing and a few games of pool over a couple of beers. Rigsby and Van Pelt announced they were expecting again and Jane congratulated them. He managed to suppress the temptation to show off.

Several beers and his pride at another baby on the way gave Rigsby more courage than he normally had with Jane. He blurted out a question he'd long harbored but never even considered voicing when he was sober. "Jane, I mean the Boss is a great agent, a terrific woman. But don't you ever get tired of her ordering you around?"

Cho pushed his chair back a little, wanting full view of Rigsby and Jane for what promised to be a highly entertaining exchange. Van Pelt wisely took a sip of her soda and stayed out of it.

Amused, Jane leaned back in his chair and toyed with how to respond. Fortified with sleep, Lisbon's presence at home, and the knowledge that he, too, again might have started a family, he decided to answer kindly and honestly. "Rigsby, your frame of reference needs adjusting. You know the old saw about how the opposite of love isn't evil, but indifference? Well, cliche it may be but it's true." Cho concluded Jane must be in an extraordinarily good mood to be so mellow with a question like that.

Jane continued, "My father never cared a whit what I did – good, bad, anything so long as I showed up and made money for him. When I was on my own, no one told me what to do or when to do it. Or cared if what I did got me killed. Lisbon tells me what to do because she gives a damn. So, no, Rigsby, I don't mind in the least."

Rigsby had the grace to be embarrassed. "Uh, sorry Jane. Didn't mean anything and you know I think the Boss is great."

Jane grinned. "No offense taken. But you really ought to look in the mirror. Frankly, I don't see much difference in our situations." Van Pelt flushed bright pink. He continued, "The iron hand may be gloved in velvet. But your better half does no less for you, Wayne."

Rigsby's eyes opened wide, for once catching the subtle but profound difference between "to you" and "for you." "Uh–"

Jane slapped him on the shoulder and ambled over to the pool table. "C'mon, Rigsby. Let me relieve you of that extra cash that's weighing you down."

The evening broke up after ten p.m. Jane had texted Lisbon earlier to let her know he'd be late. After the beers, he decided to take a taxi and ride in with Lisbon on Monday. Life was good.

**Lisbon and Jane**

The apartment was silent when he finally got in. Jane quietly hung his suit in the closet. He brushed his teeth and used the toilet only to stop dead at seeing the wrapper in the trash. He sighed in disappointment and concern, dreading the fallout the morning would surely bring. They had been together, a couple, for nearly a year. Wanting children, they made no effort to prevent conception although, till now, it hadn't happened. This hurt.

Finished in the bathroom, he quietly slipped into bed, sliding over to cuddle with Lisbon as usual, chest against her back, arm loosely over her waist, face nestled in her hair. He had almost drifted off when a nearly inaudible sniff told him she wasn't asleep after all.

Jane gently pulled her closer and kissed her neck. She sniffed again, more loudly, knowing there was no point in continuing to pretend.

"I'm sorry, Teresa. Let me help. Do you want to talk about it?" he whispered, holding her and stroking her.

She turned toward him. Tears welled up. He wiped them from her cheeks and kissed her tenderly. She answered quietly, hoarse from an evening of crying. "I wanted to tell you yesterday but it wasn't the right time. Then my – my period started today. I wanted the pregnancy, want a baby - our baby. I'm _so_ sorry."

"Shhh. It's sad, but it's not your fault. I love you and we'll get through this."

Bitterly. "I'm 40, Patrick. Time's running out."

"We'll have a family somehow if that's what we want. The most important person in my life is _you_. Children would be a bonus."

Hesitantly. "But you want children?"

"Not more than I want you to be happy. We can keep trying, see what help doctors can offer. We can adopt. Or we can simply lead our lives together."

"I'm failing you. It's almost been a year and this was the first time."

"Hey," he said a bit more strongly, "we don't know why. Maybe it's me. –Or maybe this one was never meant to be. A third of pregnancies miscarry before three months."

"_That's_ cold comfort. I don't care why it ended, just that we're that much further from having a baby."

He didn't respond immediately, taking the moment to delicately plant kisses on her shoulder, neck, face, eyelids – anything to show her he adored her, found her to be perfect, and treasured her, no matter the loss.

Quietly, "You're exhausted and upset. Shouldn't we talk in the morning?"

She swallowed and sighed. "Probably. But I'm not gonna sleep anytime soon. I, I need to know how you feel, what we should do."

"How do we go about this?"

"Talk to me. Do you want children?"

"I told you. I would welcome children, but I want you to be happy even more. I can live – happily! – with whatever we decide." He nuzzled her neck and whispered, "What do _you_ want, what's your heart's desire, Teresa?"

"Oh, God, Patrick. I want, I want a family. I never realized how much till now, till I've been with you."

"Adoption?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I could love a child we adopt. But–" she paused before continuing in a whisper, "is it selfish to want _your_ baby?"

He hummed softly in comfort and appreciation, "No, it's the most natural thing in the world. Having our baby is the natural expression of our love. It's no more selfish than my wanting it to be your child, too, my dear."

"So," she gulped, "can we see if there's any way to – to make that happen? I mean, even if I don't have viable eggs, we could use your sperm."

He shook his head. "Too soon. I'd like to see you in our child as much as you want to see me."

She shifted position and cleared her throat. "Patrick, I, I have eggs frozen at an infertility clinic."

He drew back a little in surprise. "What? I – when did you, uh–"

"When you were in Vegas," she said softly. "I was running out of time. I wanted to give us a chance, no matter how unlikely it seemed."

Tears slid down his own cheeks. "Oh, Teresa. I'm so sorry for those six months."

"It was the one thing under my control. The one thing I could do to place a bet on the future." She sniffed, mood changing again. "Talk about a long shot."

He cleared his throat. "My tough, beautiful, romantic, practical Lisbon. Maybe a long shot, but here we are, somehow, after all."

"I prayed for you. And us."

"Tomorrow. We'll talk more tomorrow. We need to talk when we're rested."

"Hmmmm." She relaxed, sad but consoled by his embrace. She took comfort that he was facing this with her. The feeling that she was defective, a failure, receded a bit. The turmoil and disappointment and worry finally stilled enough so she could fall asleep and leave the future to the morrow.


	6. Chapter 6 - Finding A Way

**Chapter 6: Finding A Way**

**Lisbon and Jane**

Jane stretched and rolled onto his back, left side suddenly cool and bereft of his Lisbon connection. Golden light made the curtains glow. Saturday. A lot later than they normally woke. He quietly sighed as memory of last night's emotional conversation surfaced. He got up, taking care not to jostle the bed, kissed her on the temple, and hit the bathroom for a quick shower. After dressing, he went downstairs to start coffee and breakfast.

The irresistible aroma of coffee eventually woke his sleeping beauty. He almost had breakfast ready when Lisbon appeared, hair mussed, eyes barely open, still wearing her wrinkled sleep tee. She gratefully accepted the steaming mug of coffee and plopped down at the kitchen table. Sugar and cream counterbalanced the rich, slightly bitter brew. The coffee dispelled her residual muzziness and incipient caffeine withdrawal headache.

"Good morning, my dear." He planted a fly-by kiss on her cheek as he placed plates laden with food on the table. "Hope this is okay. Didn't want to wake you to ask."

"Mmmm. 'S fine, thanks," she replied yawning as she tucked into a breakfast of eggs - of course - english muffin, and juice.

Jane set down his tea, sat down and started on his own breakfast. Neutrally, "What're the plans for the weekend?"

"No plans." She spread marmalade on her muffin. "I brought home a ton of work that I have to get through."

"I can do the laundry. And after being stuck in small town Brownsville for three weeks, I've been craving Thai. I was thinking I'd make pad see ew for Sunday dinner-" He glanced her way. When she nodded he continued, "–but I have to stop by the Asian food market for some ingredients. Um, I'll make satay and a soup to go with."

"Sounds fine."

They finished the meal in silence. Both leaned back to sip their drinks.

Carefully, "Teresa, we need to talk. Preferably this weekend."

She glanced at him before quickly dropping her gaze. Quietly. "I know. I'd like to let everything settle for a bit first. –Sunday night, maybe?"

"Sunday night's fine."

They did normal weekend things. Lisbon disappeared into their spare bedroom/home office to grind through her CBI paperwork. She wasn't enough of a bureaucrat to _enjoy_ the paperwork. But she accepted it as necessary to effect the changes she wanted for the CBI. Her plans were suddenly realistic now that the budget she requested was approved for the coming fiscal year. She was driven by her vision of a more effective CBI, a modernized one, and one restored to its former level of integrity and respect.

Jane efficiently dealt with the laundry, went shopping, and picked up their dry cleaning on the way back. The mundane chores were a comfort, an antidote to three weeks focused on mass murder, just as the domestic rhythms of life as a couple were a balm after tragedy and ten stunted years obsessed with revenge. Later, the beautiful spring weather helped lure Lisbon out of the house for a long walk in a nearby park and a fast food dinner. Then she closeted herself in their office again while he spent the evening reading.

On Sunday Lisbon went to mass alone. Sometimes Jane accompanied her, as a sign of support and acceptance. He knew and respected her priest and often found the sermon interesting. He had even come to enjoy the ritual, though he would never be moved by faith as she was. He didn't feel like it this time. He read the paper then cooked. It had been a typical, relaxed weekend in most ways. What wasn't typical was their sharply curtailed physical contact. Some of that was because of her period, of course. But the rest was because of the unresolved issues and the vague sadness that overlaid everything.

They settled back on the couch with after-dinner coffee and tea, jazz playing softly in the background. He gathered her close, soothed by the contact as always. He offered comfort and encouragement in turn by stroking her back as she nestled against his chest in the crook of his arm.

"So," he murmured, "what are you thinking about all this, Teresa?"

After a moment, she answered quietly, "I'm thinking I do want a family."

"And?"

"And I desperately want to have _your_ baby. –Patrick," she swallowed the lump and continued, "you're brilliant and unique and good and beautiful. –No, damn it–" she cut him off as he drew breath to interrupt. "You haven't led the perfect life. I know you're also devious and manipulative and a pain in the ass. But that's not the real you. - It sounds corny, but I want to give your child the love and home you should have had, instead of your crappy childhood with Alex. And I know you'll be an amazing father again. I want that for my family."

"Life isn't fair. . . but I don't think the impulse is corny," he said softly. "You came out of your childhood the truly good, incredibly responsible person you are. But no child should have to bear those burdens. I'd love to see your child grow up without what you had to handle."

They sat in silence. He finally ventured, "The hardest part will be on you. It was a different situation, but Angela miscarried twice before Charlotte came along."

She stirred to look up at him. "I didn't know. What - umm–"

"Angela had a hormonal imbalance. We spent two years trying before the doctors figured it out." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It was difficult. Instead of comfort and joy, making love became all about having a baby. Tense. Mechanical. Divisive. Angela was devastated after each miscarriage. The second one was after fourteen weeks. She was sad for months." He grimaced in remembered pain. "I couldn't figure out what to do, how to make it better."

"We need more information about our options, what we face."

"Teresa, you are committed to fixing the CBI. That won't change because we're trying to start a family. Having two top priorities won't be easy."

She licked her lips, pressed them together, and then replied. "You're right. I have to see it through with the CBI. I can't let that go, even to have a family. I'll somehow have to do both."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Teresa, we may need to talk about this again when we better know where we stand. I'm _not_ willing to risk you – your health or your life – no matter what. Promise me that."

She looked up at him. "Hey! I'm the cautious one, remember? We'll talk through every step. Okay?"

He shook his head once, reluctant, uneasy. "For now. Let's get more information. Soon."

"After my period came on Friday I made an appointment at the infertility clinic for next week."

"Should I be there?"

"Not sure. I'll call tomorrow and ask."

**Lisbon**

Lisbon and Jane drove in together. He had taken a taxi home after a few beers at the case closed dinner on Friday. Her day was filled with meetings, reports, personnel matters, special projects, and responding to her bosses and the public. She handled the follow-up press conference about the mass high school killings jointly with DA Ardliles, who could speak to the state's plans to prosecute Leitner. Lisbon tried to obviate any need for the media to have further interviews with Cho, but didn't really mind if they took the initiative to call him directly for a few questions or background details.

Late in the morning, Mark, the ADA prosecuting some friends of Red John, sent his assistant Rhonda over with a box of chocolates. Despite the missing Red John files, Jane was able to confirm some details about the lists found after Red John – Ray Haffner – was killed by Lisbon's team while resisting arrest. Rhonda was gossiping with Melinda about how Mark was effusively singing Jane's praises to everyone in the DA's office, telling them how Jane had the missing files memorized. She broke it off when Lisbon returned from a meeting. Lisbon asked her to pass along her thanks for the candy to Mark and promised in turn to mention his appreciation to Jane. Lisbon and Jane didn't casually flaunt their relationship, but it was widely known anyhow.

Lisbon took a moment to call Jane, feeling a bit guilty after the emotional, slightly strained weekend. "Hi, Jane. Just passing along ADA Mark Halsted's undying gratitude for helping with that Red John information. ... Have no idea why the files are missing. ... Yeah. It helps to have the DA's office playing nice with us. I knew you had it in you! ... So why not make my life easy? Be charming _all_ the time? ... Already told you what I think of your image. ... Oh, and before I forget, I called. We both should be at that appointment on Thursday. Let Cho know you need personal time, okay? ... I'll be ready to leave at five. ... You, too."

Toward the day's end, Dennis Abbott unexpectedly showed up and grabbed a few minutes for a quick question. The FBI continued to grind away on the Blake Association case. Nearly a year into the investigation, the case had sprawled over 20 states. Thousands in law-enforcement were implicated. His team's temporary headquarters remained in Sacramento, however, because so many BA members were from California, the home of the corrupt network. It struck Lisbon odd that some files on the BA had also gone missing. She didn't have concrete information, but Jane's SOP rejection of coincidence made her take notice. She would have to be sure to tell both Cho and Jane.

**Cho's Team**

Cho and his team spent the day mostly on the paperwork associated with the mass high school shooting. The paperwork was sure to be daunting on any case that involved so many people. Unlike Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho himself, Jane was largely immune, not being an actual agent.

Cho warned his team they would start a new case on Wednesday – except for Van Pelt who was requested to provide help to the forensic accountants. The State of California government naturally had its own extensive IT division. But IT provided very little useful assistance on the kinds of computer and information problems that arose in connection with their cases. The CBI needed people savvy both with computers and with the types of crimes they faced ‑‑ someone like Van Pelt. Cho also reminded everyone to try to get personal chores done before Wednesday plunged them into the throes of a new case.

Finally, Cho circulated a sheaf of file folders on the new CBI recruits. Their team was short one person and Cho would soon have the opportunity to fill the position. It was a nearly a year after Lisbon and Cho's promotions created that opening. Only Lisbons' work in rehabilitating the CBI had gotten them the budget needed to finally hire into long dormant positions. As the very new consultant on Lisbon's team, Jane had not been involved the last time when Lisbon, Cho and Rigsby chose Grace Van Pelt. Jane thought it might be interesting to be involved this time around. Secretly, the other three welcomed his ability to read people to help avoid making any truly horrible mistakes. Their team was so close and tight-knit, that the wrong person would be a lasting disruption to the work and the interpersonal dynamics. While the others finished the case paperwork, Jane spent several hours pleasantly reading and analyzing the available candidates.


	7. Chapter 7 - Complications

**Chapter 7: Complications**

**Lisbon**

"Boss?"

Lisbon looked up. "What, Melly?"

"Senator Chisholm would like to see you. He doesn't have an appointment, but there's a break in your schedule."

She set aside a policy paper she was reviewing. "Sure, have him come in." She got up, extended her hand, and pasted a professional smile on her face.

"Welcome, Senator. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Director Lisbon. A little information sharing, if you have a moment."

He shook her hand, but didn't immediately sit down. Instead, he paused to look around her office, noting various awards and framed newspaper clippings on the SFPD McTeer, Red John and Blake Association cases. He came to two watercolors and stepped back in appreciation, "Nice art. You collect?"

"No, actually my partner is pretty knowledgeable. He gave them as gifts when I started this position," she answered, settling back into her chair and waiting until he was ready to tell her why he stopped by.

"Patrick Jane?"

A faint tinge of pink dusted her face. "Yes. –So, you said something about sharing information?"

He sat down. Melinda brought in coffee for her boss and the Senator. He accepted the cup with a nod and sipped before answering.

"Director, I appreciate I may not be your favorite representative in the Capitol–"

"Oh, I uh–"

He continued smoothly, "–but that's no reason we can't be of use to each other."

Cautiously, "Did you have something specific in mind, Senator?"

"Actually, I do. You may not be ... enthusiastic about the political game. Straight arrow cop and CBI reformer and all. But–" he took another sip, "I am a big supporter of solid, honest law enforcement. California has been ill-served by some of the well-intentioned nonsense that passes for compassion these days. Especially where crime is concerned."

"Not sure I understand the specific issue, Senator."

He leaned forward. "Some of my colleagues on the Law Enforcement Committee see things a little differently. Thought it might be of interest to you."

Wary, "Senator, unless actual crimes are involved, the CBI has no business being involved in political differences, in philosophical differences."

He relaxed again, giving her a toothy campaign smile. "And that, my dear, is the crux of the matter."

Lisbon imperceptibly stiffened at the phony endearment, and replied more coolly than intended, "Is there something specific the CBI should look into?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. My colleague Senator Sanderson has a much different world view, one which I'm afraid may cross some national security lines. A California defense manufacturer is a big supporter of his and may be using that ... philosophical compatibility against the best interests of our country."

"If it's a national security matter, you should be talking to Homeland Security or the FBI."

"I've dropped a word or two there. But the more alert parties, the better I believe."

"What company is it?"

"California Electronics and Aeronautics is the manufacturer. I believe it has some interesting connections to California Asia Exports. Specifically, fraud and illegal exporting."

"Is there anything more detailed?" When he shook his head she continued, "Thank you for the information. I'll see if there's any indication of criminal activity that could justify an investigation. Unless there is, the CBI has no authority to pursue a company based on a hunch alone."

Voice sharp and dry, "If your bureau's fraud division is on the ball, that would be a good starting point. Someone can be breaking laws and also be my political adversary. Like I've said before, one hand washes the other." He finished the last of the coffee and set the styrofoam cup down. "Thank you for making the time, Director."

Lisbon shook his hand and he left. She puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled. Chisholm was a powerful California senator. Politically, she would be stupid to simply ignore him. But there wasn't nearly enough information to justify launching a formal investigation. She spent time sounding out politically savvy contacts about both Chisholm and Sanderson – Virgil Minelli, State Senator and poker partner Eileen Dawkins, and Judge Manchester, among others. She decided it was fortuitous that she was going to fire Jason Porter at the end of the day. Tomorrow Kimball Cho would start poking around the fraud division. His assignment had suddenly expanded. And she was glad Jane would also be involved.

**Cho's Team**

Cho's team was still between cases. Van Pelt had already accepted the specialist assignment and went to meet the forensic accountants that morning. Cho didn't go into details, but he told Rigsby and Jane they would be involved in some work in the fraud division. Jane got Rigsby to pull up basic information about that division for general background. And Jane made a point of visiting an acquaintance on the fourth floor to give him an excuse to casually stroll around and get a feel for the fraud division which was housed on that floor. Jane returned to the SCU a bit before lunch, just after Cho unexpectedly left for a meeting over lunch with Lisbon. Then Jane left, too.

Cho got back at 1 p.m. Rigsby was the only one present.

"Rigs, where's Jane?"

Rigsby looked up from his fast food take-out. "Jane got a call from an Al Turner. Must have been his secretary or something because the voice was a woman's."

"And?"

"Jane was gonna meet him for lunch at the roof café. He came back a half hour later and left again. Said to tell you he had to visit a sick friend."

Cho's lips tightened a fraction.

"What's up, Cho?"

Cho almost growled, "Someone tried to run Lisbon and me over when we stepped out for lunch."

"Like Jane before that mass murder case?"

"Yeah. Too many coincidences." Cho tried calling Jane, but Jane's phone was turned off. "He say when he'd be back?"

"End of the day."

"Damn."

**Jane**

Jane stepped off the elevator to the CBI café on the roof. A tall woman with a caramel complexion launched herself into his arms. That would have turned heads except the gaze of the other diners was already focused on the gorgeous 30-something woman. Jane knew this would feed the gossip mill but there was nothing he could do about it.

"Paddy! Missed you."

His smile matched hers. "Missed you, too, Al. C'mon. Let me buy you lunch."

They got loaded bratwursts from the cart, fries, slaw, tea and coffee. Then Jane found a secluded table shaded from the bright sun by an umbrella.

"How's your residency at County General going?"

"It's fine. I should be done in May and then I can go into private practice. I'm looking at a cardiology practice here in Sacramento."

"Pete and Samantha doing okay?"

"They're fine. Mom said you should visit more often. Says they haven't seen you since last summer's barbeque. Dad's knee replacement is healed and they're going to do the next carny circuit. How are you?"

He shrugged and took a bite of his bratwurst. "Been busy. Teresa's up to her ears in the new job, trying to overhaul the CBI. I'm working with her old team investigating homicides."

She looked down, picking at her fries. "I read about those high school shootings. You worked that case, right?"

He nodded. "Al, you said something's up with Danny. Something serious."

"Yeah. Danny was shot in the chest–"

Jane set his tea down with a clatter.

"–but he's gonna be all right. Biltmore Nicki told Mom and Dad. I visited when I found out on Saturday. I talked with his doctors and he'll make a full recovery. It is serious, but he's doing fine."

Jane relaxed a little, still anxious for more details. "Is there something I can help with? How did he get shot, is he in trouble, uh–"

"Chill, Paddy. He didn't tell me the details. Didn't get the feeling he's in trouble with the law, but he asked to see you."

"Figures." He took a breath and slowly exhaled. "It's a slow day. Tell me where he is–" she slid him a paper with the hospital name and room number. "–and I'll go see him now. I need to tell my boss I'm leaving, then I'll give you a lift." They finished up. Jane stopped by the SCU bullpen. He left word for Cho that he was taking personal time to visit a sick friend, but would be back by day's end.

* * *

Jane leaned against the doorframe of the hospital room, studying the man in the bed. Danny Ruskin was dozing. Despite being connected to various tubes and electrical leads, the 35-year-old man with short light-brown hair merely looked tired. Sensing someone there, he opened his eyes after a few minutes and saw Jane.

"Hey, Bro. Thanks for coming."

"Hi, Danny. Al told me. How are you doing?" Jane asked, walking into the room and sitting down beside the bed.

"Just great. –What a stupid ass question, Boy Wonder. How the hell do you think I'm doing with a bullet hole in my chest?"

Jane leaned back, evaluating, judging. "Hurts like hell, doesn't it?"

"Would except for the drugs. You've been shot?"

"Yeah. Turns out being a quasi-cop put a bullseye on my back."

"But you're still doing it."

Jane nodded and looked quizzically at Ruskin. "You're not interested in my career choice. What's up Danny? –I can't get you out of any serious legal trouble."

Ruskin leaned back and took a sip of water. "Turns out I _am_ interested in your career choice, Boy Wonder. I want out."

Jane sat up. "What?"

"You heard me. The great con artist Danny Ruskin wants out."

Jane leaned back again. "Start from the beginning, Danny."

Ruskin eyed him skeptically for a moment, sighed and began. "I've been doing cons all over the States. Been getting away with it, no warrants out or anything. . . . I have a pretty good stake saved up after all these years. Can live comfortably if I never do another con in my life." He paused, lost in his thoughts.

"And?"

Ruskin took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He scratched his head, expression unreadable. "I've been thinking about what you said, Patrick. I want to get out. There's a girl I met and I think we could make it together. Settle down, start a family."

Jane half-smiled despite himself. He disciplined himself back to a neutral expression. "She carny?"

"Her parents were. That's the rub. She doesn't want the life. Not even if I just do cons."

"What do you want, Danny?"

He looked sideways at Jane, then dropped his gaze, embarrassed. "I want her. She's worth it. Decent, clean, like Angie. –And, hell, getting shot is a pretty good incentive for a new line of work. So, yeah, I want out."

Jane motioned with his chin toward Ruskin's bandaged shoulder. "What's the story? And where do you stand with the law?"

"It was a con. I was a go-between for a company and some shady Asians. Someone panicked and I got caught in the middle. No cops, no one died. A friend brought me in and swore it was a shooting accident. The cops bought it, so I'm free of any legal hassles."

"So, no trouble with the law. No money problems. What do you need me for?"

"I need a road map. How did you cut loose from the life, Patrick? How do you keep doing it?"

Time dragged as Jane looked at him without answering. "Danny, I want to help, but I need to think about this. How long you going to be here?"

"Another three days, they say."

"Are you _really_ willing to give up the con, _never_ cross the line to pick up easy money?"

Ruskin sucked in a deep breath only to exhale quickly. "Yeah, if it lets me settle down with her. Yeah."

Jane got up and shook his hand. "I'll be back in a few days, maybe in the evening. Give me your phone number." After getting the number, "Do you need anything? Do you have a place to stay when you're discharged?"

"A friend will put me up."

Jane turned at the door. "Hey. Do what they tell you, okay?"

Ruskin scoffed. "Like you do, huh?"

"So be smarter than me. See you." Jane left, turning his cell back on now that he was out of the hospital.

**Cho**

It was almost five when Jane reappeared.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Jane frowned. "Visiting a sick friend. Didn't Rigsby tell you?"

Bluntly. "Into Lisbon's office. Now." Jane followed him into Lisbon's old office and sat down. Cho shut the door and sat opposite him.

"Jane, you just tripped two of my three conditions for working on the team. Lying to me and putting yourself or others at risk."

"What are you talking about? I did neither."

"C'mon, Jane. 'Visiting a sick friend,' really? That's the lie. And you're up to your ears in something or both Homeland and the CIA wouldn't have stopped by this afternoon. You've been targeted twice in the past month. Today someone tried to run Lisbon and me over."

Jane half rose in alarm. "What?! Is she–"

"She's fine. The question is what the hell are you involved with?"

Jane sank down again. He paused and leaned back. "Okay, from the top. A carny friend called and met me for lunch. She told me my brother-in-law Danny Ruskin is in the hospital. I left word for you with Rigsby and went to visit. That's it, Cho."

"You almost got run over several weeks ago. And you were nearly forced off the road in Brownsville."

"Till you told me about you and Lisbon, I didn't think anything of it."

"And Homeland and the CIA?"

"No clue. I am _not_ doing anything behind your back, Cho."

Cho sat back, finally convinced. "All right. Something is going on. Tomorrow we'll all meet with Lisbon. Till then, be careful. Someone seems to want both of you injured or dead. We start on that fraud assignment tomorrow morning. Stay safe till then."


	8. Chapter 8 - Figuing It Out

**Chapter 8: Figuring It Out**

**Lisbon and Jane**

On Wednesday morning, Lisbon drove while Jane looked at the scenery on their way to work. Any impulse toward conversation was smothered by the residue of yesterday's argument. She finally broke the silence.

"Sorry I yelled last night. After Cho and I were almost run over, he mentioned your near miss. And someone tried to run you off the road in Brownsville." She glanced at him for a second. Softly, "He called and your cell phone was off. I was scared."

He shifted and stretched to work the tension out of his shoulders. "Lisbon, I left word for Cho I was visiting a sick friend. Hospital rules tell you to turn off cell phones. What more was I supposed to do?"

She sighed. "Jane, I appreciate your efforts to get along in working with Cho. I just thought we were out of danger after Red John and Blake. It's a shock someone's targeting you again."

"You too," he reminded.

"Jane, I forgot to mention something. Mark Halsted needed your help because the Red John files went missing. Well, Abbott said some Blake files have gone missing, too."

"Isn't that interesting? Though I didn't even read, much less memorize, any Blake files."

She shook her head. "The FBI keeps back-up copes at another site. Must be nice to have money to burn," she said wistfully, fresh from California's budget battles. Then returning to her main point, "Isn't it a coincidence that Red John and Blake files go missing?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "Abbott's mopping up the Blake members. But there are thousands so no surprise some are still out there. Any number could be annoyed with us."

"So you think it's Blake?"

"Don't know. Maybe _that's_ what's got me in someone's cross hairs. Someone went to the trouble to remove the Red John files only to learn–"

"–you have them memorized," she finished excitedly. "You could uncover whatever they're hiding. What, though?"

"A good place to start would be comparing the missing Red John and Blake files." He chuckled mirthlessly. "They've inadvertently told us where to look. What's hidden in those files is a threat to someone. Someone powerful."

They were almost at the Capitol. Cho and Rigsby would join them to meet in her office. "Jane, what's the deal with Danny? You mentioned him but then we argued and never talked about him."

"Danny's in the hospital because he got shot in the chest." He said carefully, "The PD accepts it was a hunting accident. He'll be okay," he reassured Lisbon. "I need to talk more to find out what he wants from me."

"You'll tell me?" He nodded. Lisbon wouldn't press him. Jane was sensitive about carny matters, family matters – a vast minefield with no signposts.

They were parked in the CBI lot. Before Jane got out, Lisbon touched his arm. Quietly, "Patrick. We're being targeted again. What do we do about, you know –"

"–About starting a family?" She nodded. "After spending a decade getting Red John, I want to move forward. Don't you?"

Throat suddenly dry and tight, she nodded. They went into the building to her office.

**Lisbon and Cho's Team**

"Cho, Rigsby. Have a seat. Coffee, anyone?" Melinda counted hands then stepped out, returning shortly with three coffees and Jane's tea. Lisbon started in. "Yesterday I fired Jason Porter, a team leader for a fraud unit. LaRoche asked for help investigating corruption in the fraud division. LaRoche has the evidence to prove Porter got kickbacks for classifying accidental fires as arson so the insurer wouldn't have to pay out. Porter also reported some arsons as legitimate fires to punish insurers that wouldn't go along."

Rigsby offered, "A friend of mine mentioned that Porter got a suspected arson case recently. We should poke around an actual case and see if the write-up matches actual evidence."

"Good idea," she said, glancing at Cho to verify that Cho was agreeable.

She took a deep breath and continued. "The assignment has just gotten larger. State Senator Chisholm stopped by and hinted that the company California Electronics and Aeronautics is engaging in fraud and illegal exporting with another company, California Asia Exports. He insinuates that his political adversary Senator Sanderson is somehow involved."

Jane straightened at the company names. "Isn't Chisholm the one you dislike so much?"

Lisbon nodded. "My feelings are irrelevant. Right now there isn't enough to launch a formal investigation. But I want you to keep an eye out for information on these companies as well."

Jane murmured, "Unfortunately, being a ruthless politician doesn't tell us whether there's merit to the charges."

Cho asked next, "What's the assignment? What do you want us to do?"

"Look over the cases Porter's team handled for the past year. Highlight any that are suspicious. We need to know - was he in it alone? Or, do any team members seem dirty as well? Do other teams in the fraud division seem dirty? And did insurance executives cooperate, or were the insurers just victims of Porter and crooked low level insurance agents? Second, is there any evidence of wrong-doing by the two companies Chisholm mentioned? Take three weeks and see what surfaces. Give LaRoche anything relating to internal corruption. Tell me if there appears to be criminal activity by the two companies or any insurers. If there's anything solid, I'll get the AG to approve a full investigation which will hopefully lead to criminal prosecutions."

Cho looked thoughtful, Rigsby eager since it involved his specialist background in arson. Jane seemed distracted.

Cho looked at Rigsby and Jane to see if they had any questions. They seemed satisfied so he went on to his other concern. "Boss, what about the other stuff? Looks like you and Jane are being targeted by someone. Do you think there's a connection between those threats and the fraud assignment? And why are Homeland and the CIA suddenly visiting me? That sounds like there could be a connection to the defense manufacturer."

Jane interjected, "Error in logic. Just because the events occurred close in time does not imply causality."

"Seems awfully coincidental. Thought you didn't believe in coincidences."

"The _cases_ aren't necessarily related. Maybe the common element is me, or Lisbon me. Concurrent does not imply causality."

"Fine, Jane. Boss, what do we do about the threat?"

"Right now Jane and I will just be extra careful. We think it could be connected to the missing Red John and Blake files. Jane may be targeted because he could reveal whatever they want hidden from the Red John files. Best guess is there's some sort of connection to Blake, too. We need to finish the fraud assignment first."

"That doesn't explain why they tried to run you over. Anyhow, how about a police detail at night?"

"Cho, my Glock works just fine and I'll be careful. You keep an eye out in the field with Jane." She glanced from Cho to Jane, who looked disgruntled but didn't object.

Lisbon resolved to keep at least one gun with her during the day, even if she was just going to be in her office. Their meeting broke up and the three men filed out.

Lisbon then turned to the next item on her agenda. She needed to restore a management level between her and the CBI's team leaders. She was dealing with way too many direct reports. Eventually she would have to focus on the newer areas under her, the areas where she did not already have expertise. She sucked up her courage and placed the call to Madeline Hightower. There was little Hightower stood to gain if she worked for Lisbon, other than a paycheck. But Lisbon desperately wanted Hightower's experience and politically savvy. If Hightower agreed, Lisbon would have someone she _knew_ was straight and loyal to her. Once Lisbon had more experience as Director and finished cleaning up the CBI, it would be all right for Hightower to move on.

**Cho's Team**

Cho, Jane and Rigsby drove back to the CBI building. They set up a project workroom on the fourth floor in an unused office for the duration of the assignment. Porter's team members - Jack Townsend, Leroy Washington, and David Feldstein - had temporarily been reassigned to other teams, but were available to talk to Cho and his team. _This is gonna be awkward as hell_, thought Cho sourly as they met the three men. But an assignment was an assignment.

Cho started by reviewing the file on the suspected arson case Porter had just gotten. Rigsby retrieved the files for cases for the previous year and he and Jane started reading them. When Cho finished reading the current case file he passed it along. After all three had read it they left to view the burnt out warehouse. Later they would interview the owner and insurance agent.

The warehouse was in an old section of town. Sited at the confluence of the American and Sacramento Rivers, the city once had a major role in receiving and distributing agricultural and other goods. Now the warehouse district was simply a bad, run down part of town. They weren't overly surprised to hear sporadic, distant gunfire as they got out and walked around the building. Once done outside, they went inside where Rigsby keenly examined the worst of the burnt section. Absent either live or dead humans and with the evidence mostly confined to arson esoterica, Jane quickly lost interest and wandered back outside as Rigsby and Cho systematically went through the building. Fifteen minutes later Cho's head jerked around at the sound.

"That's not distant fire. That's a silencer!"

They pulled their weapons and ran back to where they last saw Jane. The metal warehouse door had closed and locked behind Jane, trapping him outside with only the SUV for cover. Cho and Rigsby returned fire. The three made it to a loading dock and ducked back inside.

"Damn it, Jane."

"How was I to know?"

There was no further gunfire. After a few minutes they relaxed, concluding the attack was over. The blood on Jane's cheek was just from a doorframe splintered by a bullet. Blotting the blood with his handkerchief revealed a minor cut. This time they stuck together inside the building. Rigsby was finished in another half hour. They left cautiously, quickly getting into the SUV and driving away. Jane noticed the river barges filled with scrap metal, but made no comment.

The warehouse was owned by a private real estate company that owned commercial rental properties. Over thirty investors had an interest in the privately held company, meaning that the ownership was so diffuse it seemed unlikely that anyone had sufficient motive for fraud. The benefits would be spread too thin. Neither Jane nor the others picked up anything suspicious from the insurance agent either. And since nothing screamed arson to Rigsby, it appeared the fire was just an accident. Barring falsified or inconsistent information in the file, this most recent case offered no clues about the corruption they were charged with investigating.

Back at the CBI, Cho decided their best chance of uncovering patterns of corruption lay with the dozens of case files from the past year. They each grabbed several files and returned to the SCU bullpen to read. Rigsby quickly briefed Cho and Jane on suspicious factors to look for in fires. They agreed on the information to cull from the files and set up a database to systematically extract those elements in hopes that questionable patterns would be revealed. It promised to be a slog rather than a sprint.

Before leaving for the day, Jane told Cho he would need personal time the next morning. When Cho pressed him about taking time during a case, Jane was forced to explain that it was for an appointment that couldn't easily be rescheduled.

"You sick?"

"No."

"Lisbon?"

"No."

"Gonna tell me anything?"

"No."

"Okay, Jane," Cho sighed. Jane wasn't the most forthcoming guy he knew. But, appearances to the contrary, he wasn't lazy and didn't shirk pulling his weight. Not for the first time Cho reflected it was a good thing he had a decade to get used to Jane before becoming responsible for "managing" the consultant.


	9. Chapter 9 - Modern Medicine

**Alert: Chapter more M than T.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Modern Medicine**

**Lisbon and Jane**

Infertility treatment was a burgeoning field, driven by the advent of demanding careers pursued by dedicated, ambitious women. Unfortunately, changing professional opportunities were not matched by accommodating changes in biology.

Depressingly, initial appointments at the infertility center had been honed to a routine. Lisbon and Jane first met with Dr. Marbric, who had treated her to super-ovulate and then extract and store her unfertilized eggs nearly five years earlier. He talked with them together about their goals in seeking treatment. While they didn't quite meet the definition of infertility – a year of unprotected sex without conception, - in view of Jane's 41 years and Lisbon's 39, Dr. Marbric encouraged them to begin the diagnostic work-up for infertility treatment anyhow. Unlike the case with men's sperm, women were born with all the ova they would have in their lifetime. With puberty, the ova most easily stimulated by hormones developed and were released to be available for fertilization each month. Unfortunately, the prime years for fertilization – late teens to early 30's – were the same years ambitious women spent delaying childbearing to pursue an education and build their careers. Waiting another year to try to get pregnant without treatment was almost certainly a losing proposition. Jane and Lisbon were clear in their desire for a family. Both stressed their desire for a child or children who were biologically related to both of them.

The joint meeting was followed by separate meetings with the doctor. Sometimes, couples were not as consistent in their desires as they seemed. Sometimes, a spouse hid information about past children or pregnancies, drug use, STD's, medical conditions or religious beliefs. The interviews were followed by medical questionnaires, physical examinations and, for Jane, a sperm sample. Diligent efforts at physical fitness didn't automatically translate into fertility. And the platitude that, with respect to fertility, some people were biologically younger than their years caused Jane to roll his eyes at the obvious implication that some people were older, as well. As with most couples, what "should" happen naturally with little effort promised to be a much more complicated prospect. Fertility treatment promised to be physically taxing for the woman, emotionally grueling for both, stressful to the relationship, expensive, and ... long. And there was no guarantee of success.

Both Lisbon and Jane were silent as they drove from the center to work. Lisbon would drop Jane off at the CBI building and then go on to her office in the Capitol. As usual, Jane would just stay at the CBI till she was done and picked him up.

"Jane?"

"Hmm?"

"Any thoughts?"

He tilted his head uncomfortably. "Lots. I need some time to think about all this. Is that okay?"

"Yeah. It's a lot to take in. Maybe we can talk tonight?"

"That would be better."

"I have a meeting after hours. I'll call and pick you up when it lets out, okay? It shouldn't be past six."

"Sure."

She dropped him off and drove on to her office. Before Jane went up he made a call.

"Ally? Any chance you can meet at around five this afternoon? ... Brief. About Danny. ... I'm picking him up from the hospital tomorrow. I'd like your take on his plans. ... I'll take a cab to the hospital if you can make the time. ... All right - 5:15 in the ground floor café. Thanks."

**Cho's Team**

Jane made it in by 10:30 a.m. and joined Cho and Rigsby in reviewing files. They were gradually building a picture of the work Porter's team did during the past year.

"Where's Grace when we need her?" Rigsby grumbled, as he entered information into their database on yet another case he had just finished reading.

Jane looked up from his couch, "My question is why more of her talent hasn't rubbed off."

"Stuff it, Jane. I don't see you becoming a computer whiz."

He smiled sunnily, "I have other talents. Like getting Grace to do it for me."

"Pipe down, you two. Take a break." Both looked at Cho. "We've reviewed the first 20 cases. And we have a pretty good feel that at least six are hinky."

Rigsby nodded. "Evidence in the file doesn't really support arson."

"Time to talk to Porter's team. See if they were in on it."

"Aren't we s'posed to leave that to LaRoche?" asked Rigsby. "Questioning them will muddy LaRoche's interviews."

Jane interjected, "The grapevine knew the deal with Porter a day before Lisbon canned him. His men would be blind, deaf, and dumb – emphasis on dumb – not to know they're under suspicion already."

"Jane's right. We're supposed to find out as much as we can. Let's go talk to them."

"Who first?"

"Townsend," Jane suggested. "He's closest to Porter."

They regrouped in the CBI bullpen after talking to Porter's team members.

"Jane, what did you get? Individually, or, together."

Jane shook his head. "All three are defensive, sullen, and angry. They want to believe Porter's innocent, but are beginning to doubt it."

"Which tells us?"

"They weren't in on it."

Rigsby added, "That's consistent with those six suspicious cases. Porter signed off on the final reports, was the last to handle them. The letters to the insurers and owners went out under his name."

"That's what I got from them as well."

Jane added, "There's something going on with Townsend, but it's not the fraud or blackmail. Something else. Do we care?"

"Any idea how serious?"

"Not without more questioning."

"Okay. We've got two-and-a-half more weeks. Let's get through the remaining files as fast as possible. Unless we find something that suggests Townsend, Washington, or Feldstein were involved, I want to focus on the insurers and owners. Do any come up repeatedly? If Porter's team is clean, it seems less likely anyone else in Fraud would be involved. However, there could be other corruption. I'm not interested in starting a witch hunt, but keep your eyes open. We also need to take another look at forensics. Was Porter getting any help in hiding or changing evidence?"

Rigsby groaned. "I suppose we should add information on who did the forensics work to our database."

"Get on it."

"And Jane –" He looked up. "See if you can get any sense of other agents who have something to hide."

Jane huffed. "Everyone has something to hide, Cho-" When Cho threw him a dirty look he added, "–but I'll do my usual excellent best."

They quit for the day.

**Jane**

Jane arrived at County General just past five after a ten minute cab ride. With most employees on their way home, the hospital café was nearly deserted. He got tea and a coffee for Ally Turner. She slid into the booth opposite Jane, white coat and stethoscope reminding him she was a doctor. His reflexive dislike of doctors warred with warm feelings for his childhood friend. He dismissed his reaction as unjustified bias and told himself to grow up.

"Hey, Paddy. What are we meeting about?"

"Danny. He told me he wants out, to quit doing cons."

She stirred her coffee. "He told me the same thing. So?"

"I want your opinion."

"Paddy Jane needs _my_ help reading Danny? Or anyone else, for that matter?"

"Patrick Jane _wants_ your opinion as a favor, as a friend. Al, you're closer to his age and spent more years with him, especially after Angie and I left the carnival. You know it's not easy to leave the life. Especially when you're as good at it as Danny is."

She said carefully, "I believe Danny is sincere. I believe he can do it if he sets his mind to it."

"Ah, that's the question, isn't it?." Jane sighed. "I know what he'd have to do to get out. If I help him, I'm going to be taking some risks. I could hurt people important to me.

"–And hurt yourself, too, Paddy?"

He rolled his head uncomfortably, trying to escape the knife-blade tension in his shoulders. "Yeah. But I owe him, especially after Angie."

Turner sighed and frowned, but didn't comment. She never got anywhere with him on that, on taking responsibility for a serial killer's deed. Her opinion would nudge him one way or the other, involving her in the outcome. Even after a decade, she felt bad about not trying harder to help Jane after the murders. After his breakdown when he was in the asylum. Jane was an even closer childhood friend than Danny, a brother in all but biology, a brother who had saved her from drowning when she was four. And Jane had just emerged from his nightmare, just begun to build a new life with Lisbon, just started to have the courage to hope. Jane was beginning to sound and act and feel like the person she'd grown up with and she desperately didn't want to lose him to depression or grief again. But reality would win, as it always did, and she wouldn't lie to him. "Paddy, I think Danny can do it. I believe he's in love with Jinda and wants to make it work. But there are never any guarantees."

"Have you met her, Jinda is it? That's the woman he wants to settle down with?"

"Yes. I like her. She's strong and honest. As smart and as tough as Danny. She'd be good with him. Good _for_ him."

"Thank you, Ally. That helps." Jane leaned back and sipped more tea.

She looked at him. "What else is going on, Paddy. You look like someone stole your favorite toy."

"Hmm? Oh." His first impulse was to deflect the question, having had little time to digest what he and Lisbon had learned at the appointment. Her stethoscope and white coat caught his gaze again, and he realized he had a way to get a straight, educated opinion on this most personal of matters. "Lisbon and I want to have kids. . . . But it may not be easy. She was about a month late then her period came."

She nodded encouragingly.

"We visited an infertility center today and are starting the initial work-up. It's pretty tangled right now."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise. –Though I'd like to keep it between you and me."

"Of course. So, where do you stand, Paddy?"

"We're both healthy, but age is against us. Lisbon had the good sense to freeze some eggs about five years ago, so our chances are better because of that." He paused.

"But?" she nudged.

"But it sounds like a nightmare. She's working 70 hours a week to overhaul the CBI. That's going to continue indefinitely. From what I gathered during the appointment, infertility treatment is long and stressful and maybe risky. For her."

She pushed her hair back, sat straighter and looked at him calmly. "Paddy, I think you're wise to start an infertility work-up if you want kids. You won't really know where you stand till all the diagnostic tests are done. How can I help?"

"Al, you know I don't get along with doctors very well. I hate taking someone's word if it's important." She nodded. "I can read the literature, but I don't have a hard science background. And I especially don't know what this would be like to go through."

"I can talk to some of my friends in the field. I can ask for a ... candid take on what the patients go through. Would that help?"

He nodded gratefully.

"If you can, try to set it all aside till you finish the work-up. Wait till you know exactly what you face. There's just too much, otherwise."

"All right."

"And, Paddy, let's talk again once you have those results and I've had a chance to talk to my doctor friends. Okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Al." He left after a hug, feeling lighter and calmer than he had since the morning. His phone rang and he had Lisbon pick him up at the hospital.

**Lisbon and Jane**

Jane set their wine glasses down on the coffee table after dinner. Lisbon joined him with the dessert plates and silverware. They watched the news while they ate. Jane clicked it off with the remote.

"Teresa, I need to talk to you about Danny."

"Oh, uh, sure, Jane," she answered in surprise at the topic.

"When I visited, he said he wants to quit the con life. Marry and settle down."

She swirled her wine slowly. "Do you believe him?"

"Yeah. I asked Ally what she thought about Danny–"

"–That's why you were at the hospital?"

He nodded. "She's closer to his age, was close friends with him. Before I left the carnival he kinda looked up to me, but we weren't buddies. So I wanted Al's opinion."

"And?"

"She thinks he means it, too. She met the woman. Says Jinda's a good fit for him. Says–" he swallowed and said softly, "she's a lot like Angela."

Lisbon frowned and looked up from her wine. "I'm not getting the issue. He wants to quit for a good reason. What's he need from you? Help with the law? Money?"

He leaned closer and put his arm around her shoulders. After another sip of wine he continued. "It's not that simple. Imagine the temptation of easy money any time you want it. Tens, hundreds of thousands. More. The thrill of outsmarting the wealthy and powerful. Outsmarting a lot of people who are pretty smart themselves. Or better yet, really sticking it to a guy who's a jerk, a pompous ass. Then add the adrenaline rush from a little bit – or maybe a lot – of danger."

She looked curiously at him. "That's how you once felt, isn't it?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah." He look in a breath then exhaled deeply. "Red John forced the issue for me. The thrill of the con was gone in an instant. Once I got out of the asylum, revenge took its place."

"And after the revenge?"

"I learned to replace the thrills of doing bad with the satisfaction of doing good." In a spasm of honesty, he added, "Mostly. . . . And I had you."

"So what does he want from you?"

"He asked for a road map on how to get out. –And there's the rub. I _know_ Danny. He can't just stop and lounge around the pool. He'd be bored in a week and back to the life in a month."

"So how can you help him?"

"I want him to consult for the CBI."

She sat straight and gulped the rest of her wine. "Whoa. Jane, that's asking a lot. Probably too much. He's a con man. We're more likely to arrest him than hire him."

He bit his lip. "Kinda thought you might react that way. Hear me out."

She reluctantly sat back, body stiff with tension. "This better be damn convincing, Jane," she muttered.

"Law enforcement and crime are two sides of the same coin. The same skills that make Danny a good - no, great - con man could make him a great asset to figure out and catch con men."

Dryly. "So far so good. But what's going to keep him on the straight and narrow?"

"The fact that he wants to get out. Ties to me. Maybe I can get him to see his CBI contacts as family, like carny folk. And," Jane kissed her temple, "a good woman he can't have unless he stays out of it."

"You think that would be enough?"

"Maybe. I'm not saying he would work the same way I do." His lips quirked in a smile. "After all, it took ten years and a helluva lot of incentive for me to perfect my smooth working relationship with the CBI." He ignored her snort. "I was thinking he could be retained for individual cases. Maybe ease into it a little at a time."

"God, Jane. That's a horrible risk. Think what it looks like. I have trouble defending you – and that's after ten years of closing every case, getting Red John, and exposing Blake. It would look like nepotism. Hell, it would _be_ nepotism. We'd be crucified if he screwed up."

"I know," he agreed quietly.

"Remind me why you think it's a good idea?"

"He wants out. He got shot in the chest and could have died."

"I thought that was a 'hunting accident.'"

He sighed. "So far as the PD knows. You know better."

"Keep talking. Because this is no slam dunk."

"He wants to go straight. He could get killed doing what he does. And he's family. Lisbon – Teresa, shouldn't I try to help him lead a better life? Don't I owe him for Angela?"

"Oh, God, Jane." She stretched her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension. He gently rotated her to face away and started kneading her shoulders.

"What if we try with one case? He could help suss out the defense and export matter. My face is too well known these days, at least in California."

"Who would manage this, this operation?"

"Cho. With my help."

"Geez, Jane. You're going to drive Cho to an early grave."

He half smiled. "Ah, you know Cho likes it. Kind of."

"And what's Danny say about all this?"

"Haven't asked him yet."

"What?!"

"Terersa, I'm trying to do what I promised. I'm telling you _before_ I launch a plan. I'll only tell Danny if you agree to give it a try."

"And if I don't go along, what will you do?"

"Something else. Don't know what would be enough to keep him out of the game."

She sighed. "You, Cho, and I are going to talk about this tomorrow. If Danny commits to it. And if Cho will go along. And if I don't come to my senses before tomorrow, maybe we'll give it a try. And Danny will have to promise the three of us face to face. Jane, you're taking years off my life. I hope to God this works."

"Thank you, love." Jane gathered her close, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her tenderly, tongue silkily meeting hers. Lisbon relaxed against him, the weight of the day suddenly heavy and overwhelming. His kisses traced her jaw and down her neck while his hands gentled her, every touch telling her of love and appreciation.

She drew her legs up and snuggled closer, while gently pulling him down to receive more kisses. Her lips quirked a bit at the end-of-day stubble. A hint of sweet from dessert was countered by the astringency of wine as their kisses deepened.

His hands found their way under her blouse and smoothed her back, a thrill piercing her core as he brushed the sides of her breasts. He brought his right hand around to cup her left breast and her breathing hitched. She ran her hands over his chest and around his waist.

"Mmm, let's take this into the bedroom, love," he whispered as he kissed her cheek and gently traced the ridges of her ear with his tongue.

She breathed, "A little early for bed, isn't it?"

He kissed his way to her mouth, then to her other ear, "Not for what I have in mind. I've been deprived of my favorite activity."

"Hmm, thought it was my favorite."

"He grinned, "Fancy that. Let's go," he urged, getting to his feet and pulling her up.

Lisbon grabbed her suit jacket and walked up the stairs to their bedroom. Jane turned off the light and followed her up, pants much too tight as he climbed the stairs.

The moon cast silver light as they embraced and kissed, hands fumbling in haste to undo buttons and clasps and zippers. Relieved of clothes he backed her to the bed. She lay back and slid up so he'd have room for his full length. Hands tangled in his hair, she pulled him to her, heat and passion rising, and he was hard against her belly. They pressed hot, wet kisses to each other, lips bruising. She pulled his face up from her breasts and kissed him frantically.

"Now. Inside. I want you fast, hard," she panted, legs splayed, hands gripping his back.

He reached down and parted her labia, opened her and spread the slick lubrication. She writhed, hips rising to meet him, entice him inside.

"C'mon!" He knelt between her legs and plunged deep in a smooth, powerful thrust. They quickly found their rhythm. A half-dozen thrusts had her coming apart with a strangled cry. Her powerful spasms gripped him and a moment later he let go with a wordless groan, jets of cum filling her till he was emptied the second time that day. They lay boneless and spent. Catching his breath, he rolled off, the sheen of sweat cooling as breathing and pulse gradually returned to normal for both.

After a while she bunched the pillow under her head. He pulled the sheet over them, suddenly cold as the air circulation kicked on.

Softly, she sighed and whispered, "Patrick, will this work? Will we have children?" She was afraid he was asleep when he didn't answer.

Eventually he said, "We'll have a family somehow. We just don't know the details."

"I want this so much. I'm afraid I waited too long."

"Not you, Teresa. You waited for me. I took too long."

She rose on her elbow, looking down at him in the moonlight. "Hey. You found and killed the bastard the moment you could."

"It was still me. You could have been married a dozen times over if you'd wanted."

"Not to the man I wanted. I want you. And your child."

He reached over and stroked her cheek. "Shhh. Let's get through their process. We don't know what we face."

"Oh," she swallowed, "the center called back about more tests next week. They said your sperm looks fine."

"We don't know anything till we know everything. I want to set this aside till we have all the facts, okay?"

She sighed. "Okay."

They eventually managed to brush their teeth and turn in for the night.


	10. Chapter 10 - Stupid Marks

**Chapter 10: Stupid Marks  
**

**The CBI**

"What?!"

Lisbon glared, and Jane carefully wiped the grin from his face. Fascinated, Jane watched closely as Cho communicated outrage, doubt, scorn, and disbelief, all with zero change in expression. _No, not just 'no change' but no expression at all. Mr. Ice Man can teach me a thing or two,_ Jane thought in admiration, really liking Cho at that moment. He turned back to the conversation.

"... no sense, Boss. He's a con man. I already have my quota," Cho said, staring pointedly at Jane, irritation clear, again without facial expression.

Jane lazily interjected, "But you would single handedly take a criminal off the streets, help a desperate man turn his life around, prevent a one-man crime wave, _and_ get an exceptionally useful tool for detecting fraud and ... con men."

Lisbon almost growled in frustration with Jane, annoyed and incredulous that he was messing with them. "Jane! Are you trying to make this happen? Or keep it from happening? I'm fine with dropping this!"

Jane straightened, demeanor fully serious the first time in the meeting. "I want this to happen but you're blowing any risks out of proportion. Hiring Danny Ruskin for_ one case_ will not tear the CBI asunder," the Edgar Allen Poe signature word subtly mocking their overwrought concerns. _He's not carrying the plague for heaven's sake._

Lisbon sighed and regrouped. Calmly, "Cho, do you believe Danny Ruskin could be useful to the CBI?"

"Under certain conditions, yes."

"Are you willing to give him a try _for one case_?"

"Under certain conditions, yes."

"What conditions, Cho?"

"We tie Ruskin's performance to Jane," he answered, ignoring Jane. Pain pierced Jane at "Ruskin" - Angela's maiden name of course. Then Jane bit his cheek to keep his expression neutral of either pain or derision, probably both. He realized his pushing to give his brother-in-law a chance had unintentionally p.o.'d his friend-colleague-boss.

Cho continued, "If Ruskin screws up or tries to con me, Jane's off my team."

Jane blinked in appreciation of Cho's tactical brilliance. Cho just gave himself his best shot at controlling Ruskin by motivating an equally talented con man to make it work.

"Jane?"

Jane smiled, "Touche, Cho. Yeah, I'll take that bet. Deal."

"Jane, after you pick Ruskin up from the hospital, the three of us need that face to face with him. Tell Melinda when you expect to have him here so she makes room on my schedule."

Meeting over, Jane and Cho left for the CBI. Cho went up to the bullpen; Jane, to the Citroen to get Danny Ruskin.

**Lisbon**

Lisbon straightened already orderly files on her desk. _Complicated, aggravating, pain in the ass. Asks for a favor and then rubs it in, _she ruminated. Then she mentally stepped back as an explanation for Jane's attitude occurred to her. _Hits Jane too close to home. He thinks it could be a win-win. Jane's contributed mightily to our close and conviction rates. Why not Danny?_ She sighed, reluctantly accepting, once again, that Jane's hunches and gambles paid off far more often than anyone could expect - except that normal rules don't apply to Jane.

"Teresa?" Melinda stuck her head in. "Mrs. Hightower is here."

Lisbon unconsciously squared her shoulders and straightened her back. Madeline Hightower still, _still_ intimidated her just a little bit even though they were friends and had saved each others' lives. Even though Lisbon was now Director of the CBI.

"Madeline," she exclaimed with a welcoming smile. Lisbon walked around her desk to give Hightower a quick hug. With the personal connection reestablished, both relaxed. Lisbon ushered her to the couch in preference to the stiff Director-visitor vibe that would exist had she stayed at her desk. Seated side by side, each stirred the coffee Melinda brought in and took the opportunity to look each other over.

"You look–" they started simultaneously, broke off and laughed.

Lisbon started again. "You look wonderful, Madeline." And Hightower did. She had always been perfectly groomed, perfectly poised. But now Red John was dead and she was out from under the stultifying weight of Bertram's CBI. She looked relaxed and happy, too.

"As do you."

"Sheep dip. I have permanent black circles under my eyes from this job."

"Just the job? No contribution from Jane?"

She grinned. "_Mostly_ the job. Jane is Jane. But he's now on Cho's team. Cho's even got him doing his own apologies these days."

"I'll have to take Agent Cho out to lunch. Learn his secret."

"Seriously, they're working well together."

"And it doesn't hurt that Jane is – happier?" Lisbon nodded. "And – with you?" Lisbon flushed slightly and nodded again. "I'm glad. For both of you."

Lisbon cleared her throat. "Madeline, you've been doing special projects for the governor and other high elected officials, right?"

"Yes. After hiding from Red John, the kids and I finally got our lives back after your team killed him. I didn't want long hours or the responsibilities for a whole division. At least not immediately."

Lisbon looked down, then plunged in. "I have a favor to ask. I'd like you to work for me in your old position as CBI special agent." Hightower sat back and waited for her to continue. "In eight months, I've cleaned up a lot of the CBI's problems with the investigative teams. But I have way too many direct reports. I'll never have time to focus on my other divisions unless I restore that management level between the team leaders and the Director. I need someone competent, honest, and loyal to me, with a reputation beyond question. Such people are in short supply."

After a moment, Hightower responded. "Teresa, I support what you're doing with the CBI. You aren't the only one outraged at Bertram, at the whole Blake Association corruption. I was frankly astonished that the AG and governor had the good sense to give you the job."

"Jane made me see I could engineer that offer."

"I'm glad he did. The CBI was deteriorating for some time. I think you're just what's needed. –How are you doing with all the politics?"

"Challenging at times. I'm doing okay, though I have more to learn."

Hightower nodded. "That's what I've heard about you and the 'new' CBI."

"Will you do it? I realize this is at most a lateral move for you, but–"

"Teresa, I don't care about that. Any position I want won't come from climbing the steps in the government bureaucracy. It will be a political appointment. But I can set that aside for awhile. How long would you need me?"

"Two years, tops. Less if I don't uncover major problems in my other divisions. Also, I need time to groom a few team leaders to be promoted to special agent."

Hightower smiled brilliantly, "Well then, it's an offer I can't refuse." Madeline Hightower would start in a week. Just like that, Lisbon's world was looking up.

**Cho and Rigsby**

Cho rode the elevator to five and entered the bullpen. Rigsby looked up from reading a file.

"Hey, Cho. What happened with Lisbon?"

"Trouble."

Rigsby leaned back, took a bite of his donut and sip of coffee. "What's he up to now?"

"Danny Ruskin will work one case with us. He'll help figure out if there's anything to that defense contractor doing illegal exports."

Rigsby sputtered on a mouthful of coffee. He followed Cho to the break room.

"I thought he was Jane's brother-in-law con man."

"Yep. He wants to go straight."

That elicited a low whistle from Rigsby. "So Lisbon strong-armed you to go along with Jane? Doesn't sound like the Boss." Cho sipped his coffee. His shrug was almost imperceptible. And only because they'd been partners for a dozen years could Rigsby detect Cho's amusement. "Wait! You're on board with this?"

"I could have bowed out if I wanted. Jane seems to think it'll work. If Ruskin screws up Jane's ass is on the line."

"Why?" Cho knew it wasn't 'why Jane's ass would be on the line,' but 'why go along with the insanity at all.'

Cho drew a breath and let it out gradually. "It's a Jane hunch. Jane respects him and believes he wants to go straight. If Ruskin is half as good as Jane, he'll close cases."

"Yeah, but another con man? And he isn't coming off his family's murder like Jane was. Why take the chance?"

"Lisbon took a chance on us. You. Me. Jane. Worth a try. –How are you doing on those files? Anything new stand out?"

**Jane and Ruskin**

Danny Ruskin tossed a plastic bag with some personal effects in the back of the Citroen. He gingerly got into the front seat and buckled his seat belt.

"Feeling okay?"

"Better. Just need to take it easy a few days."

Jane paused while merging with the moderately heavy traffic. "You asked my help in getting out of the life. Still the plan?"

"Talked with Jinda. Being a con man is a deal breaker. So, yeah, I still want out."

"Have any idea of what you'll do?"

"Dunno. Maybe I could help manage the carnival, or something. Maybe I could just enjoy life with Jinda."

"Ever see a cat play? Chase a string, stalk another cat? Why do they do that?"

Ruskin blinked at the change in topic. "Uh, they have to eat."

"They do, but that's not why. They chase and stalk and pounce because they love it. That's what makes them good at it."

"So?"

"You're a cat, Danny. You do the con because you love it – not because you don't have enough money. You asked how to get out? You need to replace the thrill of the con with something equally exciting."

"Like what?"

"I'm able to stay out of the life because trapping killers is fun. It holds my interest. You need to do the same."

"You think I should work for the cops? That's nuts!"

"That's exactly what I think, at least for now. Maybe eventually you could consult for insurance companies. Look, Danny. You can't just sit around. You'd be back in the business in a month. For a _great_ con man like you," Jane said in a deliberately mocking tone, "outsmarting the bad guys is one of the few things challenging enough."

"Work for a bunch of marks? Hell, no."

"They're only marks if you think of them that way. I'm not carny anymore. My CBI team is family now. Even Sam accepts that."

Ruskin thought a moment. Samantha Turner's willingness to accept Jane's little cop friend Lisbon had astonished him ever since he'd reconnected with Jane a couple of years back. "How? They're stupid marks. How can you _not_ con them?"

"They're the other side of the con. You use the same skills to trap con men. And it works out pretty well with the cops. I'm not saying you start going to the policemen's ball. Just don't be afraid to let in the people you work with."

"What's to stop me from conning them?"

"Me, for one thing. And they aren't as gullible as you think. You'd be working with Cho – the guy I consult for. Just one case, see if you like it."

Ruskin blew out a raspberry in contempt. "Cops. They're stupid straight-arrows with no imagination. I could run circles around them."

"Some of them." Jane's eyes glinted with amusement. "Don't underestimate them. They have pasts, too."

"Meaning?"

"Cho's ex-gang banger. He'll kneecap you if you try to con him. Rigsby's dad was a biker. They've been around the block a few times. –Oh. And if you want them to keep you from getting killed? Good idea to play it straight with them."

"No kidding? Gang banger and a biker's kid?"

"Uh-huh." Jane peered into the rear view mirror. "Interested? Willing to give it a try?"

"What the hell. I could try it."

"Try one case. Maybe you can help solve it." Ruskin snorted, confident he could figure out any con. Jane continued, "But if you work the case, you do not try to con Cho. If you do, he'll come after you. And I'll help him. And you work _with_ the team. No flying solo." Jane pulled into a rental car business.

"Why're you pulling in here?"

"We've been followed since the hospital. I lost them but they'll be back. We'll switch to a rental car to get rid of them."

Jane parked the Citroen out of sight. Renting a car took a few minutes and they were on their way again.

Five minutes later Jane nodded in satisfaction. "Lost them. Danny, tell me what you were involved with because this looks like trouble. And maybe you can explain why Homeland Security and the CIA are interested. They dropped by to visit Cho just after I went to see you in the hospital."

"Coincidence."

"There is no such thing."

Lisbon, Cho, Jane and Ruskin met. Ruskin convinced them he would give working with them an honest try. Despite reservations all around, all four bought in enough to try one case.


	11. Chapter 11 - Things Aren't As They Seem

**Chapter 11: Things Aren't As They Seem**

**Lisbon and Jane**

Lisbon startled awake at the twang and whine of country music. Loud country music. It was her sure-fire method of waking up, especially since she had to walk across the room to silence the clock radio. (Not being a morning person, she had to resist _permanently_ silencing it with the sidearm she kept in her nightstand.) _Okay, 6:45 Monday morning. A-n-d Jane's already up._ She looked a second time and realized his side of the bed was undisturbed. _Damn. Never went to bed._ Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she padded barefoot to the living room where Jane had fallen asleep. She gently slipped the open Blake Association folder from under his hand and set it on the coffee table. He looked anything but rested, although his position wasn't too awkward. She decided to let him sleep the extra half hour while she showered and got ready. His ability to shower, shave and dress in fifteen minutes was a chronic annoyance. Forty-five minutes was the best she could manage. But then, sometimes it was useful. An hour later they were on their way to work.

"You spent the whole weekend on those Blake files Abbott lent me."

His unfocused gaze sharpened as he glanced at her. "Red John, too," he said tapping his temple.

"Find anything?"

"Not done with them all yet. Something keeps scratching at the back of my mind, but can't make it explicit yet. There _is_ a connection between the missing Red John files and the missing Blake files. That'll tell us why we've been targeted. . . . Again."

"Listen, I have one of those follow-up infertility appointments this afternoon. I may be late picking you up."

He raised his eyebrows. "Need company?"

Lisbon pulled over to the curb to let him out. She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. "Nah. Just a test. After another test on Wednesday, Dr. Marbric said we need to meet him to go over the overall picture and decide what next."

"Charming," he muttered softly. "Okay," he said louder and more brightly, consciously trying to be supportive, positive. Before even _starting_ treatment, strain and tension had joined them in making love. Unwelcome bedfellows, indeed.

Lisbon drove on, cheered by the thought that Madeline Hightower would be starting at the CBI today. Melinda arranged to get Hightower settled in her office and have her introduced around, even though she already knew many of the team leaders and agents from her past years with the CBI. The memo had gone out last Friday. Hightower would handle the day-to-day oversight of the investigative teams. But Lisbon had even more pressing need of her talents in untangling some political knots. _Infertility. Red John - again! Corruption. Politics. Compartmentalize, Lisbon, compartmentalize!_

**Cho's Team**

"What are we missing?" Cho's blunt question cut through Jane's wool gathering.

Mentally Jane remained absorbed with the Red John and Blake files he had worked on all weekend. He blinked and gave a shake to clear his head. They were meeting in Lisbon's old office for privacy, since the Porter corruption was a confidential, internal matter. Danny Ruskin was sitting in, his first day of shadowing Jane to familiarize himself with the CBI. It was also the easiest way for Cho to keep the younger con man out of trouble in this strange new environment.

Cho continued. "We've been looking at this nine days. It isn't coming together."

Rigsby offered, "I'm sure the six suspicious cases are fraud. They're reported as arson but aren't."

Jane scratched his head. "It isn't what we don't know, but what we think we know that's wrong," he mused. "Who benefits? We're assuming the insurers are trying to get out of pay-outs by labeling legitimate claims as arson. What about the opposite? Arson labeled legitimate?"

Rigsby shifted uncomfortably. "There are several cases that could fit. Hard-to-trace accelerants are almost impossible to detect after the fact unless you suspect they were used. But forensics didn't flag anything like that."

Ruskin unexpectedly chimed in. "Follow the money. How big were those pay-outs, who stood to gain?"

Cho replied, "Three insurers keep coming up. We were thinking the executives had Porter label them arson to avoid pay-outs–"

Engaged now, Ruskin eagerly interrupted, "Not enough money. What do they personally get? A bigger bonus at Christmas? It's gotta be something else."

"We thought about the owners. But over 30 investors have an interest in the company that owned several of the burnt commercial buildings. Those buildings were in poor condition in bad areas. Not surprising there could be fires."

Ruskin motioned toward Rigsby's laptop. "Mind?" he asked politely. When Rigsby passed it over, Ruskin quickly went to a public records site and typed in the addresses of some of the suspicions fires listed as spontaneous. Jane murmured, "Houdini Jr. knows computers. Go figure."

Ignoring him, Ruskin pointed to the screen. "Look at this. Those properties each changed hands several times in the last couple of years. Classic fraud. Buy low. Then 'sell' the property to friends several times, each time upping the value. Insure them at the inflated value. Then torch 'em and collect several times their real worth."

"Too many investors?" asked Rigsby.

Ruskin went to another internet site. "Here. Five of those investors are just shells, all owned or controlled by the same guy. Bet that 30 is more like five or six. And probably all relatives, spouses."

Jane leaned back in his chair with a grin. "This is all triggered by LaRoche's conclusion that Porter is dirty. Something more to check out. Rigsby, when were those hinky cases closed? Not just the unjustified arson determinations, but those that might be arson that were declared legit?"

"Uh, most were closed nine, ten months ago. Some were for fires that occurred well over a year ago, but took a while to close."

"But nothing recent?" Jane pressed.

"Nope."

"What if Porter was on to something, but was afraid of CBI corruption? He handled those cases because he wanted to protect his team."

"Blake?"

Jane nodded. "Till Bertram and the Blake Association were exposed, no one knew who to trust."

Cho weighed in. "LaRoche claimed large cash deposits appeared in Porter's bank account–"

"Which could be made by anyone to discredit him, throw off suspicion."

Rigsby jumped in again, "But if all this is true, someone in forensics had to be faking or covering up evidence."

"Which leads us back to who benefitted from the fraud? And was Porter in on it? Or, was he maybe trying to uncover it?"

Cho made new assignments. "This hangs together better than what we've been pursuing. Let's check it out. Rigsby, check the forensics work on both types of possibly fraudulent cases. Arson labeled accident. And accident labeled arson. Are the same forensics tech's involved? See if those cases pre-date the Bertram and Blake exposure. Ruskin, figure out how many of those 30 company investors are connected. Jane, you and I will visit the three insurers. Lying? Or just incompetent victims of fraud? We're going to talk to Porter and Townsend again. –If this new theory pans out, we'll need hard evidence against that private company. And, figure out who's corrupt in forensics."

The group scattered. Ruskin stayed in the office with Rigsby. Cho and Jane left to visit the insurers and Porter.

"Yeah, I'm being framed," Porter said bitterly. He was unshaven, disheveled in an old tee and cargo shorts, and barefoot. He was home on bail awaiting trial.

"We were part of the team that uncovered Blake and–"

"I know who you are. What do you want?"

"The truth."

Porter sipped his coffee, frowning as he tried to decide whether to trust them. He finally shrugged and began. "I figured something was wrong. There were too many coincidences. I suspected someone in forensics was being bribed or..."

An hour later Porter had told them a rather gallant story of investigating internal CBI corruption but keeping it quiet to protect his team. And Cho's portable lie detector, Jane, told him Porter wasn't lying.

Two hours later, he told Cho the same thing about the insurance executives they had visited. The insurers were small, local companies and they issued insurance policies strictly within California. Detecting no guile in the executives, Cho and Jane concluded the insurers could have been targeted because of their weak fraud detection safeguards. Finally, although the insurers did benefit from cases where a legitimate claim for fire damages was labeled 'arson.' Jane opined that it was window dressing. He bet Cho that the amounts involved in the cases of mislabeled arsons were small compared to suspected arson cover-ups in which the insurance would pay the claims.

Back in the office, Jane took his second shot at questioning Townsend. Townsend had suspected Porter was checking on possible CBI corruption on his own. That was what Jane had picked up on earlier. They regrouped at the end of the day.

Cho summarized. "We finally seem to be on the right track. We have the rest of this week to get enough evidence for a conviction. Meeting first thing tomorrow."

**Lisbon and Jane**

Jane slid into the passenger seat. Impressions of guilt, depression and – confusingly - pleasure rolled off his partner.

"Hey. How was your day?"

"Ups and downs. Madeline started today. That's good. –Remember how worried I was whe she became my boss after Minelli?"

"And now you're friends." When she didn't pick up the conversation he continued, "I think we're getting a handle on that fraud case. Good catch by Danny."

"Everyone share that opinion?"

"Uh-huh. LaRoche won't be happy."

"Because?"

"I think Porter was framed. He was trying to check out CBI corruption on the sly before the Blake and Bertram corruption were uncovered."

Lisbon frowned. "I keep thinking we've hit bottom and there are always new depths. Like trawling a cess pool."

"Mmmhmm. How'd the test go?"

"It was okay. Not my favorite way to spend an hour." Jane reflected that meant it was unpleasant and probably painful.

"Results?"

Lisbon stared straight ahead as she drove. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. "It seems there's some scarring in one fallopian tube."

Jane stiffened. Carefully neutral, "What does that mean?"

She sighed. "Probably happened ages ago. I – I got an IUD in college because it was the cheapest way to go. A one-time expense rather than a prescription. Turns out lots of times it causes an infection if the woman never had children. That would cause the scarring. I read up IUD's at the time and thought I knew what I was doing. Turns out it was a bad choice."

Jane gently pried her right hand from the steering wheel and clasped it in both of his. "Hey. Your decisions are limited by what they know at the time. . . . So what does that mean now?"

"They don't really know. The biggest concern is that it could cause an ectopic pregnancy – a fetus growing in the tube rather than the uterus."

Softly, "That doesn't sound good."

"It isn't."

"But then it's probably irrelevant if we're heading toward IVF or something, right?"

Grimly, "I don't know. We need that Thursday meeting to find out what it all means."

"Teresa, how about dinner at that nice Italian restaurant you like?"

"Jane, I have work I planned to–"

"Can it wait? I feel a strong need for a pleasant dinner with the woman I love. Let's make sure there's something enjoyable in today."

She consciously relaxed. "Okay. But then I feel the need for some mindless TV while sitting next to my favorite consultant."

"Deal."

The food helped as did the wine. Being embraced as they sat together on the couch was the best part of the evening. He made a point of making it up to bed that evening, the better to cherish and comfort her through the slow accumulation of unwelcome news.


	12. Chapter 12 - New-Old Faces

**Chapter 12: New-Old Faces**

**Hightower**

"Agent Cho, please have a seat," Madeline Hightower welcomed Kimball Cho into her new‑old office. The team meeting Cho planned for the morning was superseded by Special Agent Hightower's invitation. As is always true, a "suggestion" or "invitation" was merely the polite word for an order when it was the boss offering.

She glanced at his folder, amused that Cho appeared perfectly at ease while waiting in silence for however long she took.

"To start, congratulations on your promotion. I am aware you earned that promotion years ago. You refused several opportunities." He nodded his acknowledgment. When he didn't comment she asked, "Why?"

"Director Lisbon is the most effective team leader I've known. We put away a lot of perps. I wasn't interested in reporting directly to Gale Bertram."

Her lips twitched in a suppressed smile. "Blunt as always. You need to know I am here at the request of Director Lisbon. There is no daylight between us in our desire to see the CBI cleaned up and returned to its former integrity and effectiveness." He nodded again. "In light of your track record, I'm not going to micro-manage or second guess you. We'll get along well so long as you get results and lead your team in a way that helps the Director restore public trust." He nodded again.

"Questions?" He shook his head again. "Well, I have one. Patrick Jane is on your team. How has that been going?"

"Jane gets results. The team works well together."

"Please, Agent. Answer my question."

"I have three conditions for Jane to stay on the team. He doesn't lie to me. He doesn't needlessly endanger himself or others on the team. And he makes his own apologies."

"Any problems because he's close to the Director?"

"No. She told Jane and me to work it out. She won't interfere if he blows it."

She leaned back. "And neither will I. While he is a very valuable resource, your situation differs from the past. He _wants_ to stay on the team and cannot easily manipulate you - big advantages. Keep making it work."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I will be speaking with Jane myself later today. I'm not going around you. I'll use that opportunity to reinforce your authority."

"Thank you."

"Now, quickly brief me on your team's current case and activities."

"The forensic accountants requested Van Pelt's help for her computer expertise till next week. Rigsby, Jane and I are looking into the Fraud division. Team Leader Porter was fired and indicted on corruption charges as a result of Special Agent LaRoche's internal investigation."

"Why is your team involved?"

"Director Lisbon requested we look into the division to see what evidence we might unearth."

"And?"

Cho's deeper-than-usual breath was the first sign of ... anything. "We think LaRoche is wrong." Hightower smiled. He remembered LaRoche had accused her of being Red John's CBI mole and torching Todd Johnson. "-There's evidence suggesting corruption in forensics that Porter was trying to uncover on his own."

"And he didn't report it to Internal Affairs because?"

"He didn't know who he could trust. All the questionable cases were before the exposure of Bertram and the Blake Association."

"Agent, you said 'we think.' When will you have hard evidence?"

"A company inflated the prices of commercial buildings it owned, then had them torched. This week my team will conduct an undercover operation to record incriminating statements."

"Who is going under cover?"

"Danny Ruskin."

"Don't know the name. Who is he?"

"He was brought in as a consultant on a trial basis." She motioned for him to provide more detail. "He is a con man who says he wants to go straight."

She leaned back in her chair and raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "And this was whose idea?"

"Lisbon and Jane."

Hightower hummed a moment. "Very interesting. How's it going so far?"

"Jury is out. He's made important contributions. We'll see how well it all goes through the sting. Jane is off my team if Ruskin tries to con me."

"Why?"

"He's Jane's brother-in-law. Jane made the case to give him the chance."

To her credit, Hightower's reaction was limited to smoothing her perfectly sleek hair back.

"I see. Let me know how it goes as soon as possible. Thank you."

Cho got up and headed toward the door. He allowed himself a tiny smile. He decided he was going to enjoy working for Hightower.

* * *

Several hours later Patrick Jane poked his head into Hightower's office without the benefit of an appointment. "Madeline. Welcome back."

She looked up, amused at his deliberate flouting of protocol. "Come in, Patrick." She rose and he transformed her handshake into a hug which – after a moment – she returned.

"You always hug your boss?"

He smirked. "Whenever I can — at least my former boss."

She reseated herself and motioned for him to sit. "Guess I walked into that one."

"What can I do for you, Madeline?"

"Pretty much what you used to do. Less drama and fewer complaints would be nice."

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a lazy grin. "You haven't heard about the new, _cooperative_ me?"

"In your case, hearing is _not_ necessarily believing. Look, I'm not going to disrupt the most effective team the CBI ever had unless I'm forced to. I'm here to make Lisbon's life easier. And help whip the CBI back into some semblance of a respectable, effective, _trusted_ law enforcement agency."

He smiled again. "Fancy that. I'm here for the very same reasons."

She pursed her lips and responded dryly, "No. You're here for Teresa and the interesting mysteries." He shrugged. "I just want you to know I fully support Team Leader Cho. I will **not** intercede with Cho on your behalf."

"Okay."

"'Okay'?" After a moment, "I'll take it. The fewer obvious corners you cut the easier it will be for me – _and Director Lisbon_ – to shape up the other teams." He nodded. "Try to help us out, all right?"

"Within limits. Though I must say the current Director is more appealing than Bertram."

She gave him a wide smile. "Amen. Now shoo. Don't give Cho a reason to reconsider taking you on." When he rose to leave she added, "And good luck with Danny Ruskin."

He grinned. "Good to have you back," adding with exaggerated formality, "Special Agent Hightower." She shook her head and waved him out.

**Cho's Team**

Cho left Hightower's office and plunged into the day's work. First the meeting, then the sting.

"The goal is to record incriminating statements by Sheridan Sawyer, the managing partner. Then we trade reduced charges for evidence on the other investors and the corrupt CBI forensics techs. Firing Porter hasn't been publicized. But someone else in the CBI is cooperating in the fraud – probably in forensics. If they've heard about Porter, they'll be forewarned."

Jane murmured, "First catch the rabbit."

"Jane?"

"To make rabbit stew. First catch the rabbit. I've got some ideas for the sting."

"Spit it out."

"Such an unfortunate phrase." At Cho's glare he hurried on to the substance. "They're crooked. The easiest way is to pretend to have stumbled on their little arson scam and blackmail them for silence."

"How?"

"I can–"

"No. Your face has been all over California news for the last year."

Jane allowed himself to look annoyed for a second. "Well, Rigsby is too uncomfortable lying and you scream cop and ex-military."

"Your plan. So?"

Ruskin smiled as Jane nodded in his direction. "Use the obvious man. Danny can do this with his eyes closed. And if anyone recognizes him, his background would help convince them he's the real deal."

"Ruskin, you comfortable doing this? Wearing a wire?"

"Yeah. Basic con, no sweat."

"There are conditions. We have a plan. You follow the plan. And you don't take unnecessary risks."

Ruskin looked offended. "I just made an intimate acquaintance with a bullet. I have no interest in repeating that experience."

"Good." After working out the details, they headed out by mid-afternoon.

* * *

"Everyone's in place. Check in so I know your equipment's working." After hearing everyone check in, he added, "If anything goes wrong, if you see any danger, the mayday word is 'golden.'" Cho slid down in the front seat of the SUV, baseball cap pulled low, bulletproof vest on under a large tee shirt. Jane sat next to him, squirming slightly, the Kevlar vest uncomfortable under his regular vest and suit jacket, eyes shining in excitement.

Ruskin smoothly introduced himself and was ushered into Sawyer's office. Cho surreptitiously kept an eye on the office door through the building's floor to ceiling glass walls. Jane got out and strolled to buy a paper from the newspaper box. He sat down on a bench amid huge concrete planters, unfurling the newspaper and sipping from his styrofoam cup. Rigsby was positioned around the side to keep an eye on the back exit.

"...Your investment group is remarkably lucrative. And all from run-down commercial buildings. Who knew they would be so profitable?"

"Mr. Randolph, I don't believe this is any of your concern–"

"It's your concern if I report your little arson fraud scam."

Sawyer paused, then asked, "What do you want?"

"A cool million will make this all go away."

"You're crazy. I'm going to report _you_ for blackmail."

"No you won't. You'll pay me or go to jail. I'm a bargain."

"A million dollars?!"

"Thirty buildings in the last year. Figure each was insured for an inflated value of two mil apiece. Like I say, I'm a bargain."

"It's only 20 buildings and under a million each. You'll take a hundred thou and be happy with it or –" Sawyer stopped when his cell phone rang. He glanced down, then leaned against the edge of his desk.

Cho watched two burly, black-suited men come out of an office next to Sawyer's. "Golden! Golden! Ruskin, get out of there. They've made you."

Ruskin dashed out of the office and through the building's glass doors, the two men hot on his heels. The acres of glass provided no cover, no protection. He ran toward the concrete planters.

"Police, drop your weapons!" Cho shouted as the men drew guns.

Jane crouched by a planter, then realized a guy from the building behind them had a gun trained on Cho.

"Cho!" Jane dove toward the third gunman, tackling him. The man went down, his shot went wild. Momentum carried Jane off the concrete plaza and down a four foot drop to the sidewalk below. Rigsby held the two from Sawyer's building, had them lay face down and cuffed each. Cho cuffed the other. Ruskin stood panting, bent over, hands on his thighs.

Cho looked around. "Where's Jane?"

Out of breath, still below par from the barely healed chest wound, Ruskin pointed toward the plaza edge where he last saw Jane tumble over the edge..

Cho looked down. Jane was flat on his back, eyes open but not moving. Cho swore as he noticed a spreading red blotch near Jane's waist on the shirttail pulled loose from his pants. "Son of a bit–" then bit it off as Jane shakily sat up. He growled over his shoulder at the handcuffed thug, "Stay put or I'll shoot you." He jumped down.

"Lie back, Jane."

"I'm fine."

"You're wounded."

"I am?" Cho pointed at the spreading red, stark against the white shirt. "Uh, just a scratch." He pulled up his shirt, showing a long, jagged cut across his stomach. "I caught the corner of one of those damned planters." Jane pulled a crisp, clean handkerchief from his breast pocket. "Give me a hand, Cho."

Cho sighed in relief as he helped pull Jane to his feet. _Leave it to Jane to get injured even with the Kevlar vest._ "Thanks, Jane. Next time, just yell."

"Wouldn't have been in time."

"Whatever. C'mon, let's patch you up."

Jane winced as his clothes rubbed against the shallow wound. "I'll just stop at the CBI clinic for a little gauze."

Cho jumped back up to the plaza and was about to call to Rigsby, but he was already gone. Having caught his breath, Ruskin said, "He went to catch Sawyer."

Rigsby emerged hauling a handcuffed Sawyer out by his arm. Cho turned and gave Jane a hand up to the plaza. "Ruskin, you all right?" Ruskin nodded. "Okay. Get the perps in the vans. Lets get back to the CBI. Jane, the clinic is okay if the doc says so. Then we could use another pair of eyes in interrogation."

All went smoothly from there. The recording provided the leverage and evidence needed. The firefight translated to attempted murder and gave the CBI more leverage and over even more people. Better still, Sawyer gave up names for the corrupt CBI forensics techs and confirmed that neither Porter nor his team had been involved in the scam.

Cho briefed Hightower, as requested. She had Cho pass along her congratulations on a good job to his team. Finally, Cho called Lisbon to reassure her that Jane wasn't seriously injured. The CBI grapevine was vibrantly alive, if not particularly accurate. Lisbon okayed Cho's request to let Porter know what they found, off-the-record.

The team was about to leave for closed case pizza at O'Malley's when they were snagged by Porter, Townsend, Washington and Feldstein, who thanked Cho's team for clearing them all. All eight ended up going to O'Malley's.

**Hightower and LaRoche**

"Special Agent LaRoche?" called Madeline Hightower from LaRoche's open office door.

The big man leaned back in his chair with a creak. "Special Agent Hightower," he said slowly, "welcome back to the CBI."

"Thank you," she said, pleasant but cool, stepping just inside the doorway. Glancing around to be sure they would not be overheard, "I wanted to mention that Agent Cho's team has finished its investigation into Agent Porter and his fraud unit. Porter and his team were not involved in the fraudulent arson cases. Cho will be writing up the case notes and report tomorrow. He's been able to identify the corrupt forensics technicians involved."

"That is interesting," he responded in his robotic monotone. He added, expressionless, "I see that Porter's apparent involvement was incorrect. That reinforces how important it is for Internal Affairs to thoroughly examine all evidence with an open mind."

Hightower gave him a full smile that, somehow, was free of warmth. "Yes it does, Special Agent. I'm glad we agree on that." She moved to leave, but stopped when he spoke again.

Softly, "Special Agent Hightower, I believe I owe you an apology for accusing and besmirching you in haste over the Todd Johnson immolation. My apology is long overdue."

She looked directly at him, giving him a small but genuine smile. "Why, JJ. You surprise me. But I do accept and appreciate that apology. - Good night." She left, high heels echoing crisply in the hallway, a new spring in her step.

**Jane and Ruskin**

Jane and Ruskin left O'Malley's after the pizza and a few beers. Lisbon had long since left work in her SUV, so Jane offered to drop him off at the hotel he was temporarily staying at.

Jane glanced over at him, "So, what do you think, Danny?"

The younger man half-frowned, half-smiled. "Never thought I'd be working with the cops."

"Surprised they're human after all? That it?"

"Part of it." Jane waited him out and eventually Ruskin continued. "The sting was simple. . . .but fun. I'd enjoy that."

"This was plain vanilla fraud. Remember, most criminals are stupid. But with your talents, you'll get the more interesting cases. –That is, if you want to do this."

Ruskin scratched his head, puzzled. "I don't get cops. They sure as hell aren't in it for the money." He scoffed scornfully. "The money is ridiculous. I mean, five grand a month retainer? Maybe that'd cover my car payment. Maybe. And people really live on that?"

"Hmm. Must be a nice car, Danny. Don't be a snob. I can remember years when my father would've been overjoyed to make five grand for the whole summer."

"Yeah, well, your old man pissed away whatever _you_ made by losing at poker."

"Or other activities," Jane muttered, recalling not-so-fond carny memories.

Ruskin returned to his earlier point. "So the money's crap. Why do cops do it?"

"Forget about the money, Danny. That isn't why you'd be doing this. As for why, it's people, just like always. How do you feel about Angie or Biltmore Nicki or Ally? Would you care if they were ripped off or hurt?"

"Damn right I would. You were carny, Paddy. We protect our own."

"Same thing for cops. Only they apply it to the general population. Maybe a little extra effort for brother cops, of course."

"Okay, I guess I can see that. –Hey! That's one thing I got a kick out of." Jane just waited, eyebrows raised in question. "Having two cop body-guards protecting me - me! That was a trip. Who'd 'a thought?"

"I kind of like that fringe benefit myself. Cho and Rigsby have saved my ass more times than I care to remember." Paused at a light, Jane looked quizzically at Ruskin. "What else, Danny?"

"Get out of my head, Paddy," he said genially. Then he added, "Y'know Porter told me he wanted to work with me?"

"Didn't know that."

"That felt kinda good. But they – they know I'm a con man, right? So why?"

"There're no open warrants out on you and – for a con man – your record actually could be a lot worse."

"Thanks."

"No violence. No open warrants. No widows and children. They want to get the bad guys and you're useful – especially in a fraud unit. Plus you just saved Porter's career – and maybe kept him out of prison. You cleared his team of suspicion. They're willing to meet you half way if you're ready to go straight. Cross them and they'll come after you."

"Yeah, Bro. Got that the first three times you mentioned it." Jane pulled up to the curb to drop Ruskin off. "I'm gonna talk to Jinda about all this. I'll be in touch, Paddy."

"Stay out of trouble, Danny." Danny flashed him a grin as he pulled away. _All in all, a good day._


	13. Chapter 13 - Reality Wins

**Chapter 13: Reality Wins**

**Lisbon and Jane**

"...The AG's office dropped a surprise two-day meeting on me. Some political crisis about border security, illegal immigration, and drug trafficking–"

"Seriously? That could be a headline from any week's news for the last 30 years."

"Politics." Lisbon made it sound like a bad word. "All about harmonious relations between state agencies and PD's. All day Thursday and Friday down in LA. I'm flying down first thing tomorrow. Be back Friday afternoon."

"Hate when you're out of town."

"You're between cases. Join me. Cho would let you take a couple of days."

Jane shook his head. "I'm just getting back into those missing Red John and Blake files. Someone out there doesn't like us. I'd like to know who."

Lisbon sighed. "It's only one night. But since you mention it, take care, okay? It makes me nervous."

"Mmm."

"Almost forgot. I rescheduled the meeting with Dr. Marbric because of my trip. You finished that fraud case, so I hoped you could make it. Four o-clock? He'll give us the big picture about creating our own rugrats."

Jane frowned at the thought of the meeting. "Drive separately, or go together?"

"I have the last test just before the meeting. So, separate."

"'Kay."

Lisbon pulled her SUV over to the curb. "Love you."

"That an offer?" he grinned as he got out.

"Hush. Someone could overhear."

He shook his head. "Shocking. Totally unknown behavior for couples."

"Down boy. Maybe tonight, lothario."

"Must have me confused with someone else. I'm all yours and _only_ yours."

"Later, Patrick." He ambled into the CBI building, more affable than usual.

**Cho's Team**

"Jane–" Cho called, catching sight of him stepping off the elevator. Jane changed direction from the men's room to the bullpen.

"Good morning, Fearless Leader. How may I be of assistance?"

"Cut it, Jane. I'm writing up the fraud case. We were s'posed to keep an eye out for anything on that defense manufacturer. Did you notice anything?"

"Nope. Don't think the two cases are connected. Maybe we can poke around now that we're done with the arson fraud."

Cho paused a moment. "You focus on the Red John and Blake files. Two attempts on you, one on Lisbon. Need to solve it before your luck runs out."

Jane nodded. "That's the plan."

"Anything the team can help with?"

"Hasn't come together yet. I should have a sharper handle on it in the next day or two."

"Let me know."

"Good morning, guys." Van Pelt set her purse and laptop down on her desk as both men looked over. Rigsby had veered off to get his morning ration of donuts from the break room.

"Cut you loose early?" Cho asked.

"Yeah. Got it all set up for the forensic accountants. They are thrilled with the assistance provided by Kimball Cho's team, I might add."

"Nice work, Van Pelt."

"You should get a memo." She glanced at Jane. "Someone has to promote _good_ relations with the rest of the CBI."

Jane affected a wounded look. "I've been the soul of cooperation. One big happy bureaucracy, I always say."

She smiled, "You have been okay-ish of late. You're mellowing in your old age, Jane."

"And now she calls me old," he sighed theatrically.

"Jane–" Cho interrupted. "Did Danny indicate whether he wants to work with the CBI again?"

"He'll get back to us. If I had to guess, he's leaning in favor."

"Wayne mentioned that. Danny Ruskin will be working with us, now?"

"With Fraud, most likely," Cho clarified.

Her eyes sparkled at the prospect of _another_ Jane-like consultant. _Wonder if Danny would help me get back at Jane for all the scams he's pulled on me. Fight fire with fire._ She gave herself a mental shake. _Uh, but only if he's really given up being a con man._

Jane spent the balance of the day with tea and his couch. Rigsby and Van Pelt began looking into California Electronics and Aeronautics and California Asia Exports, while Cho finished the paperwork, forwarding copies to Lisbon, Hightower, and LaRoche.

**Lisbon, Jane and Marbric**

Lisbon and Jane were told Dr. Marbric was "running a little late" and were ushered into Marbric's office to wait. Jane browsed the office, glancing over degrees, certificates, awards, reproductive technology journals, framed letters of heartfelt thanks from happy parents, and photos of cherubic infants.

Marbric entered and extended his hand to Lisbon, then Jane. "I apologize for keeping you waiting. Medical procedures don't always bend to schedules," he said with a slight smile. Jane noted Marbric was telling the truth; it wasn't just a convenient excuse.

"Please sit, Mr. Jane." To Lisbon's relief, Jane promptly did.

"I'll review the results of the tests and tell you the implications of the findings. Usually, couples choose to spend some time thinking about their choices after the meeting. Then when they have come to a decision about the path they want to take, we meet again several days or weeks later." He glanced down at two file folders on his desk. "Do you have any questions before I begin?" Both shook their heads.

Jane idly wondered at the incongruity of paper medical records - -files - in guiding the breathtaking modern reproductive technologies. He would have preferred the files to exhibit breathtaking technology with the reproduction handled the old fashioned way. He saw that Lisbon was resolutely setting aside any thoughts till hearing the doctor's overview.

After glancing at the top sheet, Dr. Marbric cleared his throat. "I'll start with you, Mr. Jane, mainly because male fertility is vastly simpler than female fertility considerations. Your sperm sample was normal – fine in quality and quantity–"

"Quality?"

"Motility, percentage of abnormal sperm and other factors are all lumped under the 'quality' heading." Jane didn't ask anything more, so Marbric continued. "Another favorable factor is that you have fathered a child – only one?"

"My daughter was conceived when I was 22. My wife Angela conceived several times but those other times resulted in spontaneous abortions. And, as you know, Teresa probably conceived two months ago, but ... then had her period."

"Your medical history mentions that. Did your doctor indicate the reasons for those spontaneous abortions?"

"Well, Angela had a hormonal imbalance. After that was diagnosed and treated, Charlotte was born a year later." Lisbon noticed he was fidgeting with his fingers even though his expression was absolutely neutral.

"The multiple conceptions are generally a positive sign, especially since the reason for the spontaneous abortions appears to have been with your first wife." Lisbon flinched at "first," but realized the doctor's error was innocent enough, understandable enough.

Jane stretched his shoulders slightly, swallowed and asked, "I was treated with psychotropic drugs while I ... was in the asylum about 11 years ago. Does that affect fertility?"

"Some psychotropic medications can adversely affect male fertility. However, the research suggests there are no lasting effects. In short, that probably has no effect, especially after so many years in the past." Jane visibly relaxed, though Lisbon read his mood as somber, unsettled.

Marbric continued. "The biggest factor concerning your fertility is simply age. Men can and do father children into their 60's, but their fertility gradually declines with age. Also, as with women, children born to men over age 40 are statistically more likely to suffer birth defects. The increase is gradual, not dramatic, and is attributable to numerous types of defects rather than just a few. Overall, there is reason to be optimistic that you can successfully father children now and for the foreseeable future."

He paused to let that information sink in. "Any questions so far? Lisbon and Jane glanced at each other, then shook their heads.

"The situation is considerably different for women. Females are born with all the ova they will ever have. As they age, so do the ova. Each month past puberty, one ovum is stimulated and released, meaning that the most responsive ova are stimulated first. Unfortunately, female fertility declines with age – and sharply declines after age 35. There is considerable biological variability around the statistical average. Some women are biologically younger than their chronological age–" Lisbon saw Jane again roll his eyes at the feel-good platitude. "–while other women are biologically older.

"You are nearly 40, which is a big consideration for unassisted conception. Fortunately, you have 19 frozen ova, harvested when you were thirty—" he glanced at the medical file, "-four. That is a hugely positive advantage if you choose an assisted reproductive technology, such as in-vitro fertilization – IVF. As for unassisted conception, your age and one moderately scarred fallopian tube are unfavorable factors. Age makes conception increasingly unlikely. And scarring raises your risk of having an ectopic pregnancy. Were you to conceive, the fetus could lodge in the scarred fallopian tube. Unaddressed, a growing fetus would eventually rupture the tube, causing a serious medical crisis."

Frowning, Jane interrupted, "How serious?"

"An ectopic pregnancy can be life threatening." Jane huffed and leaned back. Lisbon winced at both her own medical concerns and at Jane's reaction. "An ectopic pregnancy is not a consideration for IVF, however, because the fertilized embryos are inserted directly into the uterus.

"The other concern for you specifically is your mother's medical history of pre-eclampsia."

At Jane's raised eyebrows, Marbric explained, "Pre-eclampsia is a serious medical complication of pregnancy in which very high blood pressure threatens the health and life of the mother and fetus. It is difficult to predict who might be at particular risk. However, the following risk factors are well established in the medical literature: Pre-eclampsia in previous pregnancies and general high blood pressure – neither of which apply in your case. Also, pre-eclampsia in the pregnant woman's mother and advanced age at conception, both of which do apply. Another concern, particularly in IVF, is that the risk of pre-eclampsia rises considerably with multiples – twins, triplets. That can be circumvented by a measure such as selective reduction." Marbric paused for a moment, letting that information sink in. "Do you have questions pertaining to female fertility in general or to the specifics of your medical situation?"

After a moment, Lisbon shook her head. To her surprise, Jane spoke. "Dr. Marbric, let me restate what I heard you say to make sure I understand. Lisbon is at greater risk of medical problems with a – an unassisted conception because of the scarred fallopian tube, age and her mother's history of pre-eclampsia?"

"Correct."

"And even with IVF, she would still be at risk in general because of age but also because of pre-eclampsia?"

"Yes."

"And the pre-eclampsia risk can be reduced by having only one baby, not twins or triplets – fraternal, I assume. And something called 'selective reduction' can ensure that in IVF?"

"Yes."

"Please describe IVF in detail." He glanced at Lisbon, expression unreadable.

"Let me start with some general information. For women – and couples – younger than age 40, infertility is diagnosed when the couple has not conceived after a year of intercourse without using birth control measures. At age 40, infertility treatment is recommended if the couple has not conceived after six months of intercourse without using birth control. Simply continuing to have intercourse without birth control _could_ result in a pregnancy and live birth - perhaps a 45% chance in one year and 65% chance in the next four years. The odds decline further with time.

"IVF and other technologically advanced techniques can dramatically raise the probability of conception and a successful pregnancy and live birth. A woman of any age can be stimulated with hormones to super-ovulate – that is, stimulate several ova to mature and be susceptible to fertilization during one menstrual cycle. However, at your age, the much better option would be to fertilize the frozen ova. Because the IVF process makes it harder for a spermatozoon to penetrate the cell wall of an ovum, an assisted reproductive technology physically helps a spermatozoon fertilize each ovum. Several of the fertilized ova – embryos – would be inserted into the uterus, which would hopefully result in a pregnancy. The unused embryos can be frozen for future use, should you choose. Typically, three embryos are deposited in the uterus. The probability of a pregnancy is about 65%."

Lisbon asked, "If one attempt – doesn't work, how soon can I try again?"

"Typically, each attempt requires at least two months. Please keep in mind that the process is trying, particularly for the woman. The hormones have the same types of effects as the hormones in a regular menstrual cycle, only exaggerated because of the high doses. And, emotionally it is difficult if an attempt does not succeed. For many, cost is a major consideration as well."

"But since I have 19 frozen ova, I could try six times?"

"Possibly. Not all of the ova will be equally likely to result in a successful pregnancy."

Jane interjected. "Dr. Marbric, you said the likelihood of a successful pregnancy and live birth is 65%. Is that because each additional embryo adds a 22% likelihood?"

"Basically."

"But triplets or twins are not good for the mother. I mean, in general but also because of the risk of pre-eclampsia," he said the word uncertainly.

"Yes."

"And that risk is reduced by 'selective reduction'? Which is?"

"Yes, to minimize health risks for the mother, or, to give the most viable, healthy embryo the best chance of resulting in a live birth, selective reduction involves injecting one or two of the embryos with a drug that eliminates that embryo."

Lisbon saw Jane blanch. He swallowed. "Kills it?"

Marbric looked at him levelly. "Yes. Some embryos suffer significant genetic defects which we can detect. The presence of multiple fetuses reduces the likelihood of healthy, full-term births for all. And, multiples can cause serious problems for some pregnant women. It is a useful technique."

"Are, are there criteria for when selective reduction will be used? Or is it totally up to the woman or couple?"

"There are suggested guidelines to help in making the decision. As with all pregnancies, it is the woman's choice."

The meeting continued for another quarter-hour, of which Jane remembered nothing. They left, promising to make a decision in the next week or two. Lisbon got information about the costs – which would not be covered by the state employee insurance plan. Although the thousands of dollars price tag was noteworthy, she felt relieved that at least paying for it all would not be a problem for them. One fewer obstacle to overcome in having a family.

**Lisbon and Jane**

Lisbon and Jane each had their cars so they drove home separately. By mutual, unspoken agreement, they warmed left-overs for a quick dinner. Dinner conversation revolved around the CBI and mundane household matters. Jane was titillated to hear of LaRoche's apology to Hightower. Lisbon was happy at Forensic Accounting's compliments for Van Pelt's work, glad that the tension and adversarial attitude of Bertram's reign was giving way to true bureau cohesion.

After dinner, Lisbon went up to shower and pack while Jane cleaned up. She came down, toweling her hair dry in her sleep shirt and shorts and a robe. She found Jane staring out at the city, seated on the balcony, sipping bourbon in the gloom of dusk. She sat down in the adjacent chair and sighed.

After a few minutes of silence, "It was a lot to take in?"

He didn't respond at first, seemingly lost in thought. She wasn't sure he heard her. Finally, "Yeah. A _lot_ to take in." When he didn't continue she ducked down to look into his eyes.

"Jane? Patrick? Talk to me. What are you thinking?"

He hunched his shoulders and rolled his head, trying to work out the fierce tension. She got up and stood behind him, kneading his shoulders. Softly, "Talk to me, please?"

He sighed and his face was almost as sad as when she knew he was thinking of Angela and Charlotte. "A baby is supposed to be joyful. A new life, our claim on the future." She could hear him swallow. "This isn't right."

"Patrick, of course it will be hard. But 65%. And if we do it several times we're almost sure to have a child, maybe more than one. It's our family."

Stronger, "It isn't right, Teresa."

Her voice held tears although her face was still dry. "It's modern medicine. It can help us. The baby would be yours and mine. That's what we want, right?"

He replied in a voice dry and dead as ash, "At what cost? That selective reduction is killing a child – our child, or even children. I already caused the death of one child. I can't do this, Teresa. It's wrong."

"So we don't have to do that. We'll just have the multiple – two babies can't be a bad thing. Or maybe we just do one at a time for however many tries it takes."

He twisted around. "Teresa! Multiples risks you – your health, your _life._ No!"

Now she was crying, "Patrick, I want a child – your child. We can do this."

He took her hand and pulled her down to sit in the adjacent chair. "Teresa, I'm not sure even one is a good idea if it puts you at risk." She pulled back, but he didn't let go.

Intensely, "Don't you think I should have a say in that? It's my body!"

"And you're my partner, lover – my _wife_ if you had time to get married. You've yelled at me and scolded me and forced me to understand that my life isn't mine to throw away. That cuts two ways, Teresa." With effort, he lowered his voice in an attempt to maintain some measure of control. "I. Can. Not. Risk. You."

"Patrick, we can try one at a time. We could try 19 times. Women can carry a baby till they're 60! I'm healthy."

Visibly forcing a calm response, "At two months per attempt, that's three years. You'll grind yourself to dust by then."

"I'll cut back. And it surely won't take 19 tries."

Absently, "Ten."

"What?"

"Statistically, the probability would be over 90% with ten tries."

"See?"

He took her by the shoulders and peered into her eyes. Gently, "Lisbon! Teresa – you're not thinking. Ten tries is nearly two years. And cut back? The last time you worked fewer than 70 hours was at Christmas."

"Patrick Jane, I want this. I_ want_ a child and I want it to be yours – ours. Help me, don't fight me. _Please!_"

He twisted his face away in pain, trapped between her desires – and, he admitted, his too – and his terror at risking her _life_. With his luck he'd end up with neither Teresa nor child.

He gulped the rest of his drink, wanting the burn of the alcohol. Abruptly he got up and pulled her to her feet. He hugged her fiercely, then left. A few minutes later she heard the shower, even though the bathroom was dark. Almost unbearably hot water pounded down on him. Hot used up, the water turned frigid and he let stayed under that until all the emotion had washed away. He finally turned off the water and toweled himself dry. Lisbon was already in bed when he slid between the sheets. He gently held her against his chest and stroked her hair, placing small kisses on her head, face - everywhere he could reach.

"Patrick?" she whispered.

"Shhh. I love you and we will find a way." She tried to speak again. "Shhh. No more tonight. Get some sleep. I love you."

"I love you, too. Only, God, why does everything have to be so hard?"

"Shhh. Sleep."


	14. Chapter 14 - It Never Ends

**Chapter 14: It Never Ends**

**Lisbon and Jane**

Lisbon's alarm sounded way too early. She dragged herself out of bed to silence the loathed country music. She groaned. It _was_ earlier than usual because she had to catch a too-early fight for a too-political boss for a too-useless meeting. Lisbon resented the triumph of appearance over substance. In her line of work it could get you killed. After gathering her clothes, she went into the bathroom and closed the door before turning on the light, not wanting to disturb her mate.

The light in the dining room surprised her. Still in pajama bottoms and a tee, Jane had gotten up during the night. The empty Coke cans and sheets of paper filled with his precise writing told her he spent much of the night working, fueled by caffeine and sugar. She ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek.

"Jane, whatever happened to sleep?"

"Couldn't. Decided to work."

After a moment. "The missing files?" After he nodded, "Getting anywhere?"

"If my hunch pans out, I know who might have something to hide from those cases."

"But you're not going to tell me yet."

"Hunch stage, Lisbon." He abruptly stood, stretched, then turned and gave her a slow, tender kiss and full-body hug. "How're you doing, love?"

She shrugged. "Wish I wasn't going to some irrelevant meeting." He pulled back to look at her and waited patiently. She glanced down while shaking her head a little. "The fertility thing is a bitch. We _will_ figure something out," she said, determined. She looked into his eyes anxiously, "Are _we_ okay, Patrick?"

She could feel him tense as he replied, "We'll figure something out we can both live with-" then winced and looked aside, "Sorry. I didn't–"

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it that way." Lisbon mentally sighed in relief. Anything that hooked into his feelings from his family's murder was hugely destabilizing. But Jane seemed pretty calm and balanced despite being slammed into the repulsive "selective reduction" concept yesterday - not to mention learning that having a child was going to be anything but easy. (_Children_ was too painful to hope for at the moment.)

She turned down his offer to make breakfast. It was too early and she could get breakfast on the flight. She promised to call that evening, then was gone.

**Cho's Team**

In early, Cho looked up in surprise as Jane arrived a good hour before the official workday started. "Jane," he greeted the consultant, "Why so early?"

"Lisbon's traveling. Thought I'd come in and check something out on the missing files."

Cho looked hard at him again. _It's several weeks and he's looking more ragged, not less._ "Jane, you okay? Lisbon okay?

Jane gave him a fake smile. "I'm never just 'okay.' Far superior to that."

Cho's lips tightened a fraction. "Deflect all you want. If it continues, you're gonna talk to me. It's irresponsible to be distracted."

"Awww. Such tender concern."

Cho grunted then said, "That's Lisbon's department. I need a fully functional team."

"Can I grab Van Pelt to check something out?"

"Whatever you need. Got something?"

Jane tipped his head, noncommittal, distracted. "Either it's almost solved or back to square one. I need Van Pelt."

Van Pelt entered in time to hear his last sentence, uncharacteristically without her husband in tow. She wanted to get started on the three-week backlog that accumulated during her absence. "And I need you, too, Jane," she said with a grin, "Three dull weeks without you." She paused and frowned. "–Although, those guys in Forensic Accounting are surprisingly crazy. Who would 'a thought? What can I do for you?"

"I need to trace the jobs that Merton Williams has had for the past 12 years."

"Uh, he's the manager of a CBI forensics team, right? Brett Patridge's boss - I mean, before Red John killed him?"

Jane nodded.

Van Pelt figured it would take just a few minutes. Rather than have Jane pester her till she got to it, she sat down immediately and entered search criteria. "He's only been here six years. Before the CBI, he worked for ... San Francisco PD for four years. And, um, LAPD the three years prior to that."

"All as a forensics manager – for crime scenes?"

"That's what it says."

"Any way to ID the forensic techs who worked under him?"

"That's a little harder. Give me a few minutes."

Cho looked at him. "So?"

A broad grin broke out as Jane mentally correlated Williams's positions with information in the missing files. Jane had the Red John files memorized for years. He mentally rifled through the information from the Blake Association files he had more recently memorized rather than lug dozens of paper copies around. Finally, "Williams fits!" he said happily.

Van Pelt then touched his elbow. "Here are lists of people who worked for him in each position."

Jane's smile grew wider. "The missing link. Williams was the boss of the forensic techs who handled the crime scenes in every case in those missing files."

"Spell it out," ordered Cho.

"There's _never_ any useable forensic evidence from a Red John crime scene, right?" They nodded. "He had help. Some of the techs are Red John friends, or maybe Blake Association."

"Did the same forensic techs handle each case?"

"Nope, but they all worked for Williams. It's a pretty small group and several followed him when he changed jobs. The common element is Williams. –Think," he said, excitedly, "as a manager, Williams would be ideal to recruit new people into Blake. Remember that at first it was just Red John's followers, till there was a schism and the people who formed Blake broke away from Red John. Wlliams is one of those people. The time line fits the Red John schism. And the forensics work was done by techs managed by Williams."

"Circumstantial."

"All three law enforcement agencies had jurisdiction for some of those cases, Blake or Red John. And Merton Williams was the manager over the forensics teams for every case. _Strong_ circumstantial. –Besides, now that we have a lead, we know what to look for."

Van Pelt had continued to work at her computer. "Look. Williams is listed as scheduled to retire in a few weeks. He's supposed to be at an awards ceremony – for sheer longevity, apparently."

"That fits, too! He needs to erase the trail before he's out of the CBI. I'm the only one who can fill in the blanks from the missing Red John files. And he'd have no way of knowing about the FBI's off-site back-up Blake files."

"Then I need to work with LaRoche and Abbott. LaRoche since Williams is a CBI employee. Abbott because of the Blake connection," noted Cho.

"I think this calls for tea," Jane said, moving toward the break room. Van Pelt rolled her eyes. Everything called for tea according to Jane. Cho followed a moment later.

Jane poured the boiling water into his cup then reached up to get a tin of tea from the top shelf. _Chamomile_, Cho noted, _herbal stuff that's s'posed to be good for upset stomachs._ Cho busied himself with pouring his own coffee.

"Who moved my tea?" Jane asked, distractedly looking at the other little-used tins on the top shelf as he filled a teaball with the chamomile.

"No one, Jane. You're the only one who drinks that crap."

"Cho, I'm offended. It's anything but."

"Look, Jane. I'm Korean so I understand about tea. But chamomile isn't real tea."

"To the contrary, herbal teas have recently become quite popular in South Korea."

Cho shook his head, reminding himself never to argue with Jane about random factoids of which Jane seemed to have an inexhaustible supply. He stirred his coffee. Jane finished dunking his tea ball and set it aside. He lifted the steaming cup to his lips.

Suddenly Cho struck Jane's hand. Hot tea splattered as the cup and saucer clattered to the counter. They didn't break.

"Ow! What the– Why–"

"Jane! Just step back. Sorry." Van Pelt dashed to the break room at the commotion. She stopped dead, eyes round with surprise. Jane was rinsing his bruised and scalded hand under cool water while Cho soaked up the spill with towels.

Cho took a breath. "Sorry, Jane. Someone tried to kill you twice, Lisbon once. But nothing recently, right?" Jane nodded. "You think it's a CBI forensics manager. What better way than to–"

Jane finished, "-poison something that only I drink?" He paled.

"I could be wrong – _hope_ I'm wrong. I have a friend in the San Francisco PD's forensics department. Van Pelt, take the three tins of tea on the top shelf - no, dammit, take all of them – to SF PD. I'll give you his name and address. Don't give them to anyone else. Don't let them out of your sight. I'll call in a favor and see if he can check them out now. If possible, I want you to wait till he's finished." She fetched and donned the latex gloves and bagged the tins as possible evidence.

Jane sighed. He took a can of Coke out of the refrigerator and walked to his couch, slightly unsteady on his feet. He had calmed down by the time Cho sent Van Pelt off to San Francisco.

Cho sat down at his desk and took the measure of Jane. "Jane, usually you would have caught that and way before anyone else. What's wrong?" Jane shook his head mutely. After a minute Cho let it go and returned to his paperwork.

Van Pelt called back two hours later. Alerted to Cho's suspicion, Cho's friend chose a brute force approach to get a quick read on whether the tea was poisoned. He steeped samples from each tin and had lab mice ingest the tea. The three which ingested tea from the top three tins died within minutes. There were several colorless, odorless, tasteless poisons that could kill that quickly. Pinning it down would take more extensive testing. Chillingly, the symptoms mimicked a heart attack. Without a suspicion of poisoning, the cause of death might not have been discovered.

Cho and Rigsby arrested Williams and put him in a locked interrogation room. Cho interrogated him with Jane watching behind the one-way glass. Jane confirmed Williams's membership in Blake from Williams's reactions. Cho was able to extract leads that could provide the hard evidence needed for prosecution. It was time for Cho to involve LaRoche and Abbott.

**Cho and LaRoche**

"What can I do for you, Agent Cho?" LaRoche asked, his voice making Cho seem overly emotional by contrast.

Cho closed LaRoche's door none too gently then stood stiffly in front of LaRoche's desk. "Jane came within seconds of being poisoned at the CBI this morning. We believe it was Merton Williams."

LaRoche instantly made the connection between poisoning and forensics expertise. "That would be logical. Motive?"

"Blake member. Before that, Red John friend. Jane was the only one who could figure it out." Cho continued, anger checked only by iron discipline, "In the last several weeks someone's tried to kill Jane twice and Director Lisbon once. Aside from the poisoning attempt. Why the hell isn't Internal Affairs on top of this?"

LaRoche didn't respond immediately. "We haven't had any information suggesting he was corrupted."

Coldly, "Special Agent LaRoche, I can't tell you how to do your job. But it is unacceptable when my team is in danger from CBI employees inside the CBI building. Williams was involved with Red John or Blake for the last 12 years. Interrogation confirmed Jane's conclusion. Williams is in Interrogation Room C on the fifth floor, whenever you want to take custody."

"One of my agents get him this afternoon. The CBI was heavily infiltrated by Blake members, Agent Cho. I will take another look at the whole CBI. I am relieved Mr. Jane is uninjured."

"'Alive,' you mean." Cho waited a moment more. "I'll forward the evidence as soon as I get it back from an uncorrupted forensics department."

**Cho and Abbott**

"Enter, Agent Cho," Abbott invited and motioned to a chair.

Cho stood. "Agent Abbott, I understood the FBI cleared the remaining CBI employees of being Blake members."

"We have. Your point?"

"CBI employee Merton Williams is Blake. He came within seconds of poisoning Patrick Jane this morning."

"How do you know he's Blake?"

"There have been two attempts on Jane's life and one on Director Lisbon. Three with the poisoning attempt. Jane figured it out this morning from the missing Red John and Blake files."

"You have hard evidence?"

"We have tins of tea that only Jane drinks laced with poison. A forensics department I trust is checking for more evidence. As required, I am turning the case over to CBI Special Agent LaRoche of Internal Affairs."

"So no hard evidence connecting Willams to Blake and the murder attempts?"

Cho leaned forward on the balls of his feet. "There would be hard evidence if the FBI did a more thorough job of investigating. The CBI was infiltrated by Blake. You've had a year to finish cleaning up Blake in the CBI. My team can't do its job if it isn't even safe inside CBI headquarters, Agent Abbott."

Coldly, "I'll have my teams reexamine every CBI employee. We'll question all known Blake members again to identify links to CBI Blake members that we missed the first time. I appreciate your bringing this matter to my attention."

Cho stared at Abbott a moment. He turned and left.

**Lisbon**

It was past ten before Lisbon got back to her hotel room, showered, and was ready for bed. It rang three times and Jane picked up. "Hey."

"Hey. How's the meeting?"

"Pointless. Dog and pony show to convince the public we're _doing something_."

She could hear the grin in his voice as he responded, "Well it _is_ election season. Gotta keep the masses content and voting the right way."

Her response was unprintable. "How was your day?"

"Slow. The team's working on that defense contractor question. I solved the missing files case, though."

She snuggled into the down comforter. _RHIP. At least I stay in nicer hotels now._ "Tell me."

"Merton Williams."

"From Forensics? I don't think I – we – saw him more than twice."

He yawned. "Blake member. Before that, Red John friend." She heard him stir his tea and take a sip before continuing. "Red John had help wiping his crime scenes–"

"–Which is why there was never anything we could use. Of course."

"When Williams defected to Blake he kept doing it for Blake crimes. Should have been obvious."

"I thought Abbott cleared out the Blake members from the CBI months ago!"

Slowly, seriously, "Blake membership is wide and deep, Lisbon. Abbott's tracked them across 20 states for a over a year and he's still not done. I don't think we'll ever be sure we got them all."

She grimaced and rubbed her face with her free hand. "I want to disagree, but you're probably right. So we're never gonna be sure? We'll always have to watch our backs?"

"I'm open to suggestions." After a pause, "What's new? You'll always be a target for the perps you've put away. Even before I got ... involved with the CBI, I had to keep an eye out for disgruntled clients and family members." He laughed mirthlessly. "People tended to get p.o.'d when I cheated them out of their dough."

Dryly. "Your clients were happy enough. It's the relatives who disagreed with how they spent their money."

"Teresa, don't go there."

"_You_ don't go there. That was half a life-time ago and you're still flogging yourself. Nowadays the ire is mostly triggered by your _good_ deeds."

"Anyhow, Williams wanted to eliminate any trail back to him before he retired next month. Motive. Means. Timing."

"Huh. Nothing special about trying to run us over, Jane."

"Cho can fill in the details. LaRoche and Abbott both have a stake in this."

"What's going on, Patrick. Something's up with you."

"Just tired. Not enough sleep last night."

She snorted. "Probably no sleep. Any more thoughts about having kids?"

He drew a deep breath. "Let's table that till the weekend, if that's okay. I just want to turn in."

"I'll hold you to it - sleep, I mean. See you tomorrow after work. Love you."

"Love you too. Good night, Teresa."


	15. Chapter 15 - A Long Week

**Chapter 15: A Long Week**

**Cho's Team**

"Agent Cho," said Hightower, walking into the bullpen, "congratulations for uncovering the Blake Association members in Forensics. Corrupt forensics techs taint a lot of cases because of their role in evidence. Excellent catch." She turned to leave, then paused, "Oh. I should also mention that Porter sent me a memo complimenting your team on solving that fraud case and clearing him and his team. Agent Rigsby–"

Rigsby looked up, startled and apprehensive at being singled out by Hightower, "Yes, ma'am?"

"He complimented you on your arson expertise. You uncovered arsons which his team missed."

"Thank you," he said in relief, looking down at his desk again.

"Keep it up!" She turned and left, path crossing Jane's as he exited the elevator with his tea.

Looking over his shoulder, "What did Madeline want?"

"Just paying us compliments," Cho answered without looking up.

"Of course." Jane underlined his cheeky response with a cheeky grin. He sank down on his couch and picked up his book.

"Pay attention, everyone. Let's review where we are on that defense contractor assignment. Van Pelt, you first."

'I've been going over anything I can find on-line about the company. California Aeronautics and Electronics does some work with the US private sector, but the bulk of their work is defense related. They've held major defense contracts for 20 years. Most recently, much of their work involves satellites. It's hard to get details, of course, but their government funding has doubled over five years,"

"Anything political? Illegal?"

"The company runs a PAC for state Senator Sanderson."

Jane noted, "So Chisholm's allegation of a connection there is correct."

"But not illegal," countered Cho.

Van Pelt rifled through some papers on her desk. "I just found this out. It seems a Russian firm wants to hire the company for its satellite expertise. Non-defense stuff, but it has to be cleared by the US government. They haven't gotten clearance yet."

"I imagine that's hard to get for a defense contractor," Jane said thoughtfully.

She looked up, "Yeah, but they already got a waiver for work with a Chinese company on the same kind of thing."

"Interesting."

Cho. "Rigsby?"

"Jane and I talked to the California Asia Exports outfit. At first they pretended not to speak English–"

"Which I immediately exposed–" interjected Jane.

"Once we got past that, they claimed to buy and export scrap metal to China."

"It _is_ a legitimate type of business," Jane added, "and a lot of companies do it. Scrap metal from the US feeds the new steel mills in China."

Cho rounded on Jane, "Is it a legitimate business or what?"

"Y-e-s," Jane answered slowly.

"And–"

"They were unusually careful in answering my questions. Almost like they knew I was reading them. Their answers were truthful, but they were hiding something."

"Simple tax evasion? Violating some export rule?"

Jane shook his head. "It – _feels_ like more than that. These aren't your average businessmen. They've been trained in how to resist questioning, suppress their tells. There's more than meets the eye."

"Van Pelt, keep digging on the aeronautics company. Rigsby, you see if you can find out anything on-line about the export company. We don't have enough yet to either propose a full investigation, or dismiss the suspicion as groundless."

**Jane and Turner**

Jane met Ally Turner for a quick lunch at the hospital. They moved through the serving lines, paid, and settled at a quiet table in a corner.

"Hi, Paddy," she greeted him with a smile. "You said you and Teresa finished the work-up?"

"Yeah. That was a splash of cold water." He huffed. "With everything that can go wrong it's amazing the human race hasn't died out by now."

She put a hand on his arm, surprised at his uncharacteristic pessimism. "Hey. Tell me the results and what the doctor said are problems. This _does_ work for thousands of couples." Turner ate steadily as Jane laid out the situation.

"So," she summarized after he finished, "in broad terms, natural conception would give you  
about a 50-50 chance of a child, tempered by concerns about an ectopic pregnancy or  
pre-eclampsia. IVF sounds quite promising. Teresa has frozen ova from age 34 and, so far as they  
know, there's no problem with your sperm. The rub is in carrying a baby, or worse, twins or triplets.  
Teresa's mother's history of pre-eclampsia predisposes her to higher risk, as does age. And –" she  
caught and held his gaze, "you find the selective reduction option unacceptable."

He nodded. "Al, I just can't do it. It–"

Soothingly, "No one says you should, Paddy. Relax." She took a bite of dessert, then continued. "Doing one embryo at a time is not very practical. The odds of a live birth are only in the low 20 percent range, so it would very likely take multiple tries. –I talked to some friends specializing in infertility treatment. _Knowing_ that a fertilized embryo ends up spontaneously aborting has the emotional impact of a lost child – the death of a child. It's just not the same as a missed or late period when the woman never knows for sure she was pregnant. If she did become pregnant and suffered pre-eclampsia, it could require months of bed rest and even then it's risky for the mother and child." Jane frowned.

"I take it bed rest would be a big monkey wrench in her work with the CBI?"

He nodded. "She's dedicated to restoring the CBI. It's demanding, draining, stressful. A normal pregnancy would be a stretch. Months of bed rest wouldn't work at all. She isn't just an employee, she's the director now. It's _her_ reform."

"No way to take a break from the CBI work? Or, maybe just defer IVF till after the CBI work lets up?"

He sighed. "No to taking a break. Maybe we could wait on trying IVF, but we don't know how long it will take to reform the CBI. –Al, I know we're sounding like spoiled, self-serving prima donnas who want everything their way. But Teresa is passionately committed to fixing the CBI. She has 20 years of law enforcement experience and this is her shot at making a real difference. If we wait, it may be too late for kids. I'm not getting any younger. If I bring another child into the world, I want to be there till the child is grown, at least."

Turner smiled wryly. "I'm familiar with dedicated people in my field, too, Paddy. And don't get too hung up on age. There is every likelihood you would live long enough to raise a child, even if it were several years from now."

He said softly, sadly, "No guarantees. If I've learned anything, there are never guarantees. And it's not just living that long, it's being in good enough health to be an effective parent."

When she looked up again, the light caught the fine, nearly invisible scars on his face and across the open neck of his shirt where Sean Barlow and Red John had cut him. He was literally scarred from his horrible ten year obsession to avenge his family's – his _first_ family's – murder. And she knew enough that the life of a homicide detective, or consultant, wasn't exactly risk free. She shook off the sudden melancholy. With a deep breath, "Well, have you thought about a surrogate mother? A woman willing to be implanted with your embryos and carry the baby to birth?"

He leaned back and shrugged a little. "Don't know much about it. I – I guess it's a logical option to consider. I'd be concerned about finding someone to do it. Um, any legal complications. Control over her lifestyle to protect the baby. Uh, I just don't know. Guess I should find out more. –Teresa and I haven't talked yet about what we're going to do."

"Paddy, I've got to get back pretty soon. Is there any more information I can help with?"

"I just wanted you to confirm some things. Pre-eclampsia is a real and important threat. And the way the infertility clinics get high rates of live births is by multiple embryos inserted each try. And each unsuccessful try is very hard on the woman - lost child, not just a late period kind of impact."

"Yes. You have a good handle on the facts."

He sighed heavily. Then half-smiled as they both rose. Giving her a hug, "Thanks, Al. At least I know what we're getting into."

"Call me if you have any more questions, okay?"

"Sure. Thanks."

**Cho's Team and Lisbon  
**

Jane reappeared after lunch and stretched out on his couch. After a half hour he sat up, a puzzled expression on his face. Jane raised his forefinger, then after a moment, "Grace, do you have names for those Russian businessmen? The ones interested in hiring the aerospace manufacturer for help with satellites?"

Van Pelt opened a new window on her computer screen. "Just a sec. I think ... so." She paged through some documents on a website – it looked like a news service or newspaper site. ""Here goes. Vladimir Barovski and Illyich Samov." Jane got up and peered at her screen over her shoulder. No photo of the men.

"Driver's license photos?"

"Here you go," she said, printing the photos. Jane folded the printout and pocketed it.

"Any way to get to find out their car license plates?"

"Let's see." Van Pelt typed quickly, then waited to see if her database query yielded anything. "Nope. No car registration linked to either name."

"Hmph. Can you generate a list of plate numbers for cars registered to the California Russian embassy?" Van Pelt handed him a list of a couple dozen plate numbers a minute later. Jane folded and pocketed that, too. "Last question. Can facial recognition software connect either one to the embassy?"

"I'd have to check classified FBI or Homeland data bases. I could try hacking–"

"No, you can't," said Cho firmly, looking up from his desk.

"–but the easiest would be to ask the FBI and Homeland to check off-the-record."

Jane looked at Cho, eyebrows raised in silent request. "Van Pelt, know anyone who'd check for you?"

"Sure do. I'll call and ask."

"Jane. What're you thinking?"

Jane shook his head. "Hunch stage, Cho. If it pans out it would be pretty coincidental." Jane's low opinion of coincidence was well known so Cho let it drop as a probable dead end.

* * *

It was nearly quitting time when Cho looked up and saw Lisbon walking his way. "Boss!"

"Hi, Cho. Van Pelt. Rigsby." She looked around. "Jane around?"

Rigsby answered, "He ducked out for tea. Be back soon." He pointed to the trash bin closest to Jane's couch. It was cluttered with styrofoam take-out cups. "He's been up to the rooftop café a dozen times today. He should just get an IV and mainline the stuff."

Lisbon frowned. "Why is he buying it?"

Cho answered, "Forensics got done with the break room yesterday. HazMat won't do its thing till Monday." Lisbon glanced toward the break room, noting the yellow-and-black striped crime scene tape cordoning it off. "I'm confused. Fill me in."

Cho leaned back. "After we discovered the tea was poisoned, I roped it off and called Forensics – one of the teams I'm certain is clean. The tech called HazMat once he found out I had spilled the poisoned tea on the counter. Said some poisons can be so powerful that even the dried residue can be dangerous."

Van Pelt interjected, "I can just see Wayne putting a doughnut on the counter without a napkin. Fffft." She made a thumbs-down motion. "The HazMat guy said we'd get a new refrigerator and everything," she burbled happily.

Lisbon ruthlessly suppressed notice that Grace's pregnancy was beginning to show. She turned to Cho. "Tell me the whole story."

Cho related how he figured out that a forensics tech might have poisoned the tea that only Jane was known to drink, and the confirmation by his forensics friend in the SFPD. He was just finishing when Jane walked up, tea in hand.

"Lisbon! Why didn't you call?"

"Hey, Jane. Got back early and wanted to know if you need a lift. My cell's dead because I forgot to charge it last night."

"Cho, mind if I leave now?"

Cho shook his head. The CBI wouldn't get any less of its money's worth from Jane if he left 15 minutes early.

Lisbon and Jane walked toward the elevators. "And how come Cho has to tell me you almost got poisoned? Damn it, Jane!"

"Operative word, Lisbon: 'Almost.' Besides. . ."


	16. Chapter 16 - Choices

**Chapter 16: Choices**

Lisbon puttered around making coffee and putting water on for tea. She'd have breakfast made shortly – eggs for Jane, pancakes for herself.

_Glad he's sleeping in. Over a month since that mass murder case and he's still not sleeping well. Barely salvaged sex this morning. He insisted on using a condom! Bought them ahead of time. _She snorted._ He hates condoms, just like every other man I've ever known. Damned infertility stuff. Now that he knows I have a scarred tube, he's obsessing over how a pregnancy could be dangerous. Ectopic pregnancy. Gotta ask Marbric about practical measures we can take. We've barely begun and the infertility stuff is already screwing up our sex life._ She grinned at the unintentional pun. _After denying and deferring and agonizing for a miserable decade, I will not sacrifice enjoyable sex on the alter of infertility. Things were going well, and now Jane's back to freaking out that something will happen to me. I thought we were past all that. We need to be past that._

"Jane. Jane! Breakfast. Eggs the way you like them!" She was rewarded by sounds of Jane stirring in the bedroom. A minute later he appeared clad only in pajama bottoms.

"Hey!" He kissed her then sat down. "Didn't expect you to make breakfast."

"Feeding you is the least I can do after this morning."

He looked pleased with himself as he started to eat. "You have definitely mastered eggs, Lisbon."

"Just rising to the challenge, Oh Persnickety One."

They focused on eating while the food was hot. "So, you were going to explain why nearly getting poisoned wasn't important enough to call me."

He shrugged. "What's the point? Nothing actually happened."

She said carefully, "Its important if Blake members are systematically trying to kill you. It scares the hell out of me when I hear you were almost murdered second or third hand. I worry."

After a moment, "How is that different from what you did? Cho had to tell me the two of you were almost run over. That's important when I'm trying to figure out who's behind it."

She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it without saying anything. After a minute, she found her voice. "You're right. If I expect you to call me, I should have called you."

He grinned, irritatingly.

"Oh no you don't. That does not let you off the hook. We _both_ need to call, that's all. –Okay?" When he didn't respond, "Okay, Jane?"

He grimaced then agreed, "Okay. I'll call if my life has been threatened if you will, too." After a moment, "What are your plans for the day?"

"I have CBI work, but I can do that any time this weekend. Jane – Patrick, I really want to make some decisions about starting a family. This infertility stuff is like toxic fog. It's always there."

"I agree. When?"

"After I clean up from breakfast?"

"I'll be back soon as I shower and dress."

They brought the tea and coffee into the living room and settled on the couch. Jane draped one arm on the back and Lisbon nestled underneath alongside. The warmth, the physical contact was soothing, relaxing. _This is gonna be hard,_ she reflected. _It has to be the least romantic way imaginable of thinking about starting a family._

Jane's question jarred her out of her musings. "Mind if we break it down into logical questions? There are a lot of parts to this and I think bite sized pieces will make it more manageable."

She nodded. "Okay. Pick something and let's start."

He shifted and settled comfortably against her. "This first question seems to drive a host of others. How badly do we want a child who is biologically related to us both?"

Lisbon nodded again. "That's basic. I – I really want it to be biologically ours – especially yours."

Jane pulled her closer in a hug. "And I very much want to see you in our child. Then let's aim for what we want – a child from your eggs and my sperm. Adoption is always an option if we can't make infertility treatment work. . . . Um, _a_ child, or _children_?"

"Geez, Jane! It seems like having _one_ will be hard. I don't want to get our hopes up for more."

"But would you want more if that's possible?"

She breathed, "Of course. I grew up in a family with four kids. I always thought ... hoped for at least two. I mean, one child, that would be great, but more would be a blessing."

He swallowed. "Thanks to your foresight, you have ova that aren't as ... compromised by age. And my sperm are okay so far as they can tell. From what I've read, we're better off than many couples." He could feel her nod against his chest. "So, now the harder questions."

She offered, "I guess it would be foolhardy to assume just – doing it will work. Dr. Marbric was pretty clear on that because of age. So, that backs us into IVF. Get eggs and sperm together in a Petri dish, insert embryos. Voila. Baby."

"Teresa, before we go there, I'd like us to agree on something. I want children. But I am dead set against risking your life or health. –My track record in the luck department isn't so great."

She could feel his muscles tense, his back straighten. "Patrick, _nothing_ is risk free. Pregnancy at any age carries risk. I'm not willing to forgo a family because there is some risk."

He drew back a bit to better face her. "Teresa, then let's talk about the real situation, not some rhetorical straw man. Look! This morning we were arguing about a condom. I don't want to risk your life with a possible ectopic pregnancy. And the IVF stuff –"

"Wait, wait. Put aside that first thing. I don't want to risk an ectopic pregnancy. I – _we_ need to talk with Dr. Marbric to find out practical ways of preventing that – short of celibacy or using condoms till I hit menopause! But that's a separate discussion. We already agreed that IVF is our best bet to have a family."

He cleared his throat and forced himself to relax. "You have 19 ova, and I can produce however much sperm is needed. So, potentially we could have 19 kids." He smiled at the absurdity, despite himself.

"Hey! If you're talking 19 _you_ do the pregnancies then," she grinned. "Back to reality. Apparently, we will need a bunch of those 19 eggs to get even one child."

"The devil is in the details, Teresa. The doctors could insert one fertilized embryo at a time. But that only has a 20-odd percent chance of a pregnancy and live birth. It would take 10 tries to be 90% sure of having a child."

Her mouth suddenly dry, she got her coffee and sipped. "That isn't very appealing."

"Yeah. If a try doesn't ... succeed, I gather it feels like losing a child. This isn't merely your period being late. You would know you were carrying our baby."

Lisbon stiffened and unconsciously squared her shoulders. "If that's what it takes, I could do that."

"Teresa, with the strain of your job, repeated spontaneous abortions would be devastating, don't you think?" When she didn't respond, he added, "You're still sad from the pregnancy you lost two months ago." Softly, "You can't put yourself through that repeatedly. It just won't be tolerable."

After awhile, "I guess. But the way they up the likelihood of a live birth is to insert several embryos."

He huffed, "And that crashes into the pre-eclampsia risk. You're already at greater risk with one. Twins or triplets would really hike the risk."

"We need to talk about selective reduction."

He paled and replied hoarsely, "I can't see doing that, Teresa. I was never okay with abortion in general. The concept of deliberately creating embryos – wanted children — only to kill some is – is–"

She stroked his arm, "Yeah, me too," she assured him quietly, relieved when he relaxed. "Patrick, I can't do that as a Catholic. Conception is conception. As it is, IVF is against Catholic teachings. For sure, there is no way to get around the immorality of taking innocent life – the innocent life of our child."

He sighed. "Well, trying one embryo at a time sounds long, and grueling, and traumatic – especially for you. And, trying – what? – three typically puts you at risk of pre-eclampsia if we agree selective reduction is unacceptable. What's left?"

"Well, what about two embryos? Women successfully carry twins all the time."

Jane made a low sound of displeasure. "You've got to respect your unique situation. Maybe some women manage, but your risk of pre-eclampsia is higher than usual. With twins, a lot higher. And even with two embryos at a time, it would still take four tries to have a 90 percent chance of a baby. Still grueling, still risky. This compromise doesn't look like a solution to me."

"Patrick, you've eliminated all the options. We're not getting anywhere."

He leaned forward and sipped his tea. After a moment she did the same with her coffee. He finally ventured, "Let's go back to the big picture. We have eggs and sperm that should work if we use IVF. That's good. We face problems with you carrying a baby – especially if it's twins or triplets."

"Your point?"

He kissed her cheek. "How important is being pregnant compared to having a child who is biologically ours?"

"What? A – a surrogate mother to carry our child?" He nodded. She frowned, shaking her head slightly. "A friend of mine went that route. About six months into the pregnancy, the surrogate decided she wanted to keep the baby. It was a nightmare. They finally won in court, but it was six months of hell. They almost broke up because of it."

Jane spread his hands helplessly. "Teresa! Don't rule it out. It eliminates the risks to you."

"But raises a whole bunch of other risks. How would we find a surrogate? My brothers' wives aren't close to me and they're not that much younger. Pay a stranger? How can we be sure she would take care of herself, do what's best for the baby? And what if she's faced with triplets? I know women carry twins, but triplets are a whole different thing."

"One percent."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"The risk of triplets is just one percent if the probability of a live birth is 22 percent. Simple probabilities."

She took a deep breath. "If the chance of triplets is only one percent, then why not me? I can see twins."

"Teresa, you're wishing away the risks of pre-eclampsia. As well as the realities of carrying twins while coping with the CBI reforms. It isn't safe. It doesn't seem like a good idea at all."

She sighed sharply in frustration, then whispered, "It's not a rational thing, Patrick. I want – I desperately want your child for us to love and raise together."

He sighed in turn and drew her into an embrace with both arms. "I know. Let's table this for now, give it time to settle. Will you think a little about the idea of a surrogate, love? That's the safest way."

"Okay," she whispered. "I guess we're past the fairy tale that it all happens automatically just the way we want." He responded by kissing her cheeks, forehead, and lips, taking comfort in holding and being held.

"We'll figure it out, Teresa. We'll figure something out so long as we're in this together. Love you."

"Me too."


	17. Chapter 17 - Flight Risk

**Chapter 17: Flight Risk**

**Jane and Lisbon**

It was early Sunday morning. The drapes were back-lit with the dawn's soft light, bathing the room in a warm glow. The drapes billowed as cool air washed over them from the open windows. Jane lay awake on his side, one arm folded under his pillow so he could comfortably gaze upon his sleeping love. He savored the quiet and was content to enjoy the peaceful, relaxed expression so at odds with her waking presence. Her rich brown tresses were fanned over the pillow, hair sifting gold highlights from the sun. Lisbon stirred in her sleep to unconsciously snuggle closer to him, burrowing into his side. He smiled and pulled the light blanket higher on her shoulders. Jane then carefully extricated himself from under her arm, knowing sleep was over for him. He quietly performed his morning routine, dressed and padded into the kitchen to survey the ingredients at his disposal. Finding the supplies lacking, he decided he had time for a quick trip to the open-air market.

Lisbon woke to the smell of breakfast. Her mouth watered at the scent of coffee and something delicious baking. Showering took a few minutes and she was in the kitchen in no time.

"You're ambitious for a Sunday morning," she said as she walked in. She hugged him from behind, craning her neck around him to see the cake cooling on the counter behind him.

He turned in her arms. "Coffee cake. Plus eggs and bacon coming up. Eggs for you?" he asked, then prevented her from answering with a slow, deep kiss.

Finally coming up for air, "Mmm. Just cake and bacon. –Oh, fruit too," she added, spying the bowl of freshly sliced and sweetened strawberries.

He busied himself with finishing the eggs as she set the table and ladled berries into small bowls. He set out their plates laden with food. They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Teresa, what are your plans for the day?"

'Nothing much," she replied. "You?",

"Oh, I was thinking we could amuse ourselves upstairs," he said, interrupting himself with a bite of eggs, "Then check out that free jazz concert at the civic center this afternoon."

"How come I didn't hear about that?"

'Heard it at the farmer's market when I went out."

Bemused, she half-frowned at him. "You're in a good mood."

"I'm having breakfast with my gorgeous would-be wife upon whom I will soon lavish mind-blowing sex," he leered suggestively. "It's a beautiful day and I have every intention of our enjoying it. Life's too short."

"Don't be so humble," she said, stroking his thigh with her bare foot under the table. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

He grinned, "You inspire me. But by all means, make sure there's truth in my advertising."

She huffed,"More like truth in boasting. –But I'll hold you to it!"

They cleaned up after breakfast. Finishing up, Lisbon slapped him on the ass and sprinted for the bedroom only to be captured from behind and stopped dead. He turned her to face him. His mouth closed over hers as their hands slipped under clothing, stroking and fondling. It took ten minutes to cover the short distance to the bedroom, and by then they were rid of most clothing. The freshly made bed quickly succumbed to disarray from enthusiastic sex. Still concerned about the danger of a scarred fallopian tube, he delivered pleasure in varied and creative ways, only to be matched in her determination to give as much as she received. Afterward, they lay sated and enervated. Lisbon smiled as he softly snored, happy their exertions returned him to the sleep he so badly needed.

Waking and stretching, Jane drew a deep breath and hugged her closer as she lay sprawled across his chest. "Best cure ever for insomnia."

She grinned and nibbled at his neck. "One of _my_ favorites."

He fell silent and gently stroked her hair for a few minutes. "Hey. So what are your thoughts about making babies?"

She lay back and bunched up her pillow to raise her head. "We should try one embryo at a time for however long it takes," she suggested tentatively.

"Hmm," he hummed, uneasy. "Could take forever and risks pre-eclampsia." He decided to couch his concerns relative to her goals for the CBI, "From what Marbric said, your risk could be as high as 20-to-40 percent because of your mother's history. What would that do to your CBI reforms?" Then wondering about the feasibility, "Is it even practical to fertilize one egg at a time?"

She tipped her head uncomfortably. "Fertilize a bunch and freeze the rest for later?"

He frowned. "What if we never use some? Isn't that a problem from a religious perspective? I mean, even if we kept them frozen, they'd eventually deteriorate."

"Yeah, I'd be uncomfortable letting them ... die from neglect. If IVF works for us, maybe we could donate any extra embryos to other couples."

He huffed. Slowly, "Bret Stiles was my biological father. He was a sperm donor for all the involvement he had in my life. Look how well I fared with Alex. I – I don't want to create an embryo without knowing what happens to the child."

Surprised and dismayed, Lisbon snuggled closer and kissed his cheek. "You're a good man, Patrick Jane."

"Isn't a surrogate a better option?"

She sighed. "Not sure. The thought of having a stranger carry our child makes me queasy. I guess we should look into it though." She paused. "No matter what, we should keep trying the old-fashioned way. Maybe we'll get lucky–"

"Every time is lucky in my book."

She ignored him. "Let's talk to Marbric. We don't know exactly what to do, but at least we can ask how to deal with the ectopic pregnancy risks. Maybe we're missing something."

He said carefully, "We're still not on the same page. Pre-eclampsia scares the hell out of me, for you and the baby. And, yeah, I understand your concerns about a surrogate."

Later, Jane insisted they go to the jazz concert, wanting _something_ in their weekend not to revolve around infertility.

**Cho and Lisbon**

After a weekend of thought, Cho decided he had to talk to Lisbon. He knew she usually arrived at the Capitol well before start of the official work day and glimpsed her walking into her office as he stepped from the elevator. The door to the outer office closed softly behind him. The Director's office door was ajar, and he could see she was on the phone making an appointment. Cho stepped back before she noticed him, but was struck by how worn she looked. He hesitated then exited into the corridor. Before the elevator arrived, Cho shook his head backtracked to the Director's office, annoyed at his uncharacteristic indecisiveness.

Lisbon finished making an appointment for them to meet with Dr. Marbric. The quiet scuffing of footwear on the carpet caught her attention and she looked up. "Cho! Good morning. Come in."

"'Morning, Boss. Can I have a minute?"

"Of course. You okay, the team?" She gestured for him to take a seat. "Coffee?"

"No thanks. We're mostly okay–" She looked up. He took a deep breath and continued, "but I need to ask you about Jane."

"What's up, Cho?"

"_That's_ what I need to ask you about. After working with him for ten years, I have a pretty good feel. Jane's been missing some things lately."

"Such as?"

"He didn't connect the time he was nearly run over and the hit-and-run in Brownsville till you and I were nearly run over. Danny Ruskin realized our working theory on that fraud case didn't hold water before Jane did. And I realized his tea might be poisoned before he did. That's not like him. Ordinarily–"

"–he would have caught those things before anyone else," she finished.

"Yeah."

"Have you talked to him?"

"He deflects or ignores the question. Something's distracting him and it's dangerous. Can you tell me what's going on?" Having overheard her making the doctor's appointment for Jane and her, he added bluntly, "Is he sick? Are you?"

Lisbon sat back and looked away for a moment. She sighed. "Cho, we're working with a doctor for help in starting a family. It _is_ distracting. And it's likely to continue for awhile."

Cho swallowed, impassive expression unchanged. "What's 'awhile'?"

"Months. Maybe many months."

He shook his head slightly. "Jane's normally a loose cannon in the field. I'll take extra precautions, but it worries me."

Lisbon offered softly, "I appreciate that, Cho. I'll tell him to take greater care, but you know how he is. He gets caught up in solving the puzzle and wants to chase it down regardless of risk."

"Yeah." Cho frowned a bit. "I can't keep him in the office and have him be of any use. He wouldn't put up with it, 'specially not indefinitely. I'll try to ride herd more closely."

"I'll nag at home. –Tell me if anything else surfaces that's unusual. Also, if the field work is especially dangerous."

"Thanks, Boss."

Cho departed, leaving Lisbon to reflect on yet another – dangerous – impact of their quest for children. No matter how resolute and tough she might be in undergoing infertility treatment, she wouldn't be able to protect Jane from the real risks in the field because of the tension and distractions. She found it more unsettling than the medical risks she faced.

**Jane and Turner**

Jane got in early, having taken the Citroen shortly after Lisbon left for work. He was pleased to see the crime scene tape gone from their break room. There was a new break room refrigerator, showing the HazMat team had come and gone over the weekend. Cho wasn't around, but Rigsby and Van Pelt arrived a few minutes later. Jane restocked the cabinet with new tins of tea – tins where tampering with the foil-sealed packets of tea would readily be apparent. Then Ally Turner's call interrupted his tea prep ritual. Jane found a quiet spot so he could talk privately.

"Good morning, Al. ... Slow down. Who says he's missing? ... Why does Jinda think that? ... I have an idea of how to make sure. ... We don't have a case yet. I'll pick you up by the hospital emergency entrance in 15 minutes. I'll call if I can't get away." He stepped into the bullpen.

"Cho around?" Both shook their heads. "Please tell him I'm taking a few hours of personal time. He can call me if we get a case. Should be back before lunch."

Ally Turner pulled the Citroen door shut and buckled her seatbelt. "Paddy, thanks for helping me find out why Danny's missing."

"Hi, Al. Jinda's sure he didn't just change his mind and take off?"

"Last week Danny said he was going to try working with Porter's team, consulting on fraud cases. –They were supposed to go out to dinner yesterday. Danny didn't show."

"What location? There are at least two high-end Hiltons I know of in Sacramento."

"114 River Plaza."

"That's not far, but it'll take time because of rush hour."

They drove silently toward the hotel.

Jane's cell phone vibrated and he answered. "Yeah, Cho. ... I'm trying to find him now. Tell Porter it's not clear why he isn't at the CBI this morning. ... His friend Jinda told my friend he's missing. ... I will. I'll call in after I check it out. –Probably be back by noon.. ... Thanks."

Stuck in traffic, Turner broached a subject that had been bothering her. "Paddy, I mentioned I'd be done with my cardiology residency in May, right?"

"Uh-huh. Glad to be done?"

"Sure. Listen, I wanted to mention how much I appreciate your helping me pay for college and medical school and now the residency, too. I can start paying you back once I join a private practice here in Sacramento."

He shook his head. "I'm not worried about it. –Actually, I don't really want the money, Al."

"Paddy! I owe you hundreds of thousands of dollars!"

"That money was from my psychic days before Angela and Charlotte were killed. It's legit, I declared it as income and paid taxes and all–"

"Oh."

"Yeah, when I was a kid at the carnival, I was surprised to learn the Feds got Al Capone for tax evasion of all things. Amazing how stupid Capone was. Anyhow, I don't care about the money. I still have the Malibu house and some savings. If it bothers you, apply it to charity care or something. You'll do more good with it than I can."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "If you want. I'll ask again when I start practice, just to be sure."

He sighed, a bit annoyed at her reticence. "Al, if you want to do something for me, help me find college or graduate students who are willing to be surrogate mothers. Just to carry a pregnancy with our baby to birth? I know there are companies that recruit women, but how do I know which ones are best? Which women are reliable and honorable?"

"So you've decided to go the surrogacy route?"

"I want to. Lisbon still wants to do one embryo per try for however long it takes."

"That's a pretty tough approach, Paddy. And it doesn't avoid the pre-eclampsia risks."

He replied softly, "I know. So far we don't agree. A friend of hers had a horrible experience going the surrogacy route."

"Paddy, I've given this a lot of thought. Why not let me be your surrogate?"

He glanced at her in surprise. "Al! You're in the middle of your medical training. How could you take that on? I can't ask you to do that."

Calmly. "You aren't asking. I'm offering. I _have_ thought about this and even talked it over with my boyfriend. I'll be done with my residency in May. I could take a few months off during the last several months of a pregnancy. It would work out fine."

"Pete and Sam would never believe I didn't take advantage of you."

"Already talked to them. They'll be okay with this if it's what I want to do."

"Even if I want to say 'yes' Teresa would never go along. She'd be convinced I talked you into it."

"It makes sense. I'm younger and don't have any unusual health risks for pre-eclampsia or anything else. Frankly, I'm also a physically larger person. If I ended up carrying twins, I likely would have an easier time physically. Will you at least think about it? Maybe let me talk to Teresa?"

He swallowed, "Yeah. Yeah, I will. Thank you, Al."

They rode in silence for the rest of the trip.

Once in the hotel, Jane and Turner determined Ruskin's room number and went up. They were lucky that the cleaning woman had just started cleaning the room. Since he hadn't checked out, it wasn't scheduled for a complete cleaning. Jane's smile, his CBI ID, and a $20 dollar bill convinced her to let him look around, with her standing there to make sure nothing got lifted. Jane and Turner scanned the room. There were no signs of struggle, though it didn't look like Ruskin had packed anything to leave.

"Could he have just taken off, Paddy?"

Distracted, "Could have, but doubtful." Jane checked some drawer bottoms and backs without finding it. He stood a moment, then snapped his fingers. He went to the closet and turned on the light. Nothing was obviously out of place. Jane stepped partly into the closet and felt around in the dark corners at the ceiling against the wall with the sliding louvered doors, the wall most hidden from casual view.

He ducked back out a moment later with a small 6" x 3" bundle wrapped in black plastic in his hand. It had been stuck to the wall near the ceiling with duck tape. He grinned. "Thought so. He wouldn't take off without this."

"What is it?"

"His stake." Jane unwrapped the bundle, revealing a wad of paper bills – twenties, fifties, but mostly hundreds. The bundle totaled several thousands of dollars.

The hotel maid harrumphed. "I'm sorry, mister. I can't let you take that."

"I understand. Here. I'm going to put it into the room safe, and leave the key with the front desk. Please come down with me so you're sure I'm leaving that key."

All three trekked down to the desk in the lobby. The key was left in an envelope with Ruskin's name on it, locked in the hotel's safe. Jane gave the maid another tip.

"C'mon, Al. I'll drop you off at the hospital on the way back." Jane confirmed with Al that Jinda had no idea of where Ruskin might be. Jane told Al that he'd get Cho's team to help him locate Ruskin and that he'd call if he found him. She kissed him goodbye as he dropped her off. He promised to think about her offer

**Cho's Team**

"Jane. What did you find out?" Rigsby and Van Pelt crowded around as Jane dropped down on his couch with a cup of tea and a sigh.

"Danny's missing. No signs of struggle, but he didn't just take off."

"You know this how?"

"He left his stake hidden in the room. Even if he ditched his clothes and stuff, he wouldn't leave ten grand behind." Rigsby and Van Pelt exchanged glances.

"Any ideas of who? Or why?"

"As a matter of fact I do. Can Grace track his cell phone?"

She sat down at her computer again. With a nod from Cho, "What's the number?" Jane gave that to her and she put a trace on the phone. Though not strictly legal, Cho knew there'd be no repercussions. Ruskin was close enough to be law enforcement as a consultant and they had reason to believe he might be in danger.

After twenty minutes, she looked up. "The phone's still active, but the GPS puts it here." She pointed to the map of Sacramento on her computer screen. "He's either lounging by the river or taking a swim with his cell phone."

Rigsby frowned in worry. "Did someone kill him and dump the body?"

Jane stood in thought. "Don't think so. I think he stepped in the middle of something, and one of the two sides is trying to figure out what he knows."

"Spit it out, Jane. What's your theory?"

"I was hoping to talk to Danny and get confirmation. Looks like I have to do it backwards. This is that coincidence I was talking about, Cho. Homeland and the CIA came to visit you the first time I went to visit Danny in the hospital. After I picked him up two weeks ago, we were tailed from the hospital by a vehicle with embassy plates. Russian embassy, I think. I talked a little with Danny. He was shot in some scam where he was hired to be a go-between. Someone didn't want to be on-record as the purchaser of scrap metal from the California Electronics and Aeronautics firm we're s'posed to be investigating. Now, why would they do that?"

"Obviously to hide their identity," answered Van Pelt.

"Gold star. So the company does classified defense work. They sell scrap metal to someone who doesn't want their identity known. –What if someone in the company is selling prohibited technology to the Russians? Or maybe Chinese?"

"How do you figure that?" asked Rigsby.

"Oldest scam in the books. Department store basic. A clerk tosses perfectly good merchandise into the damaged goods pile to go out with the trash. A way to get goods out of the store without suspicion. An accomplice rescues the discarded goods. Because the merchandise was written off as damaged, the accounting records don't even reveal anything missing – 'shrinkage.' So I wonder what we'd find on some of those scrap mental barges?"

"Proof, Jane. Sounds good, but nothing we can take to court."

"That's why we need to find Danny. Maybe he can ID some of these people," Jane said, waving the photos Van Pelt had printed out the previous Friday.

"Where do we look?"

"Let's figure out the locations of vehicles registered to California Asia Exports and the California Russian Embassy office. If not that, maybe the California Electronics and Aeronautics facility."

Cho called Homeland and the CIA to fill them in on his suspicions. He emphasized that he didn't yet have solid proof. But he had no choice since he would need a lot more manpower to conduct simultaneous raids on short notice. Homeland's surveillance data also helped eliminate all but two license plates from the California Russian Embassy. The big guns Federal agencies also helped Cho get the warrants he needed for the raids.

The raids took place near midnight. Ruskin was found in the vicinity of two Russian Embassy employees – supposed embassy staff who were actually covert agents. Ruskin had managed to escape, but was still too near his captors to be comfortable. With the cooperation of the president of California Electronics and Aeronautics, a barge of scrap metal scheduled to leave the manufacturing plant was impounded, later to be sifted through for banned weapons components. And the California Asia Exports "businessmen" proved to be the men who had hired Ruskin as a go-between. It would take time to sift through the seized materials and figure out exactly how the security systems had been circumvented. However both Homeland and the CIA were eager to provide that assistance.

Danny Ruskin rode back with Cho's CBI team. All were tired but relieved at the successful operation.


	18. Chapter 18 - Moving Forward

**Chapter 18: Moving Forward**

**Lisbon**

Lisbon looked around at the group – Hightower, Porter, Cho, Jane, Ruskin. "Hightower?"

"The FBI found classified satellite components aboard that barge. They are pursuing the California Asia Export company for kidnapping and attempted homicide. But the FBI still has to pin down who's involved with selling restricted technology. The investigation is far from over." She glanced over to Ruskin, "Ruskin is willing to testify." Ruskin nodded.

Lisbon commented,"The FBI claims jurisdiction on national security grounds." She looked around. "Their position is reasonable – not just bigfooting to claim credit. Anyone have a problem turning it over to them?"

Jane frowned, then offered, "I'm more interested in what they _aren't_ pursuing. There's more to uncover in the California Electronics and Aeronautics company."

"Anything specific?"

Jane shook his head. "Just a feeling."

"Cho?"

"We still don't know if state Senator Sanderson is involved beyond receiving political donations."

Lisbon pressed her lips together, then decided. "There's no compelling reason to keep the case. And we don't have the justification to launch an investigation into Sanderson. Just keep your eyes open in case something surfaces." She looked down. "Next topic. Porter, you have been fully cleared and reinstated. I apologize for the incorrect accusation and am sincerely pleased the truth came out." Porter nodded, cool but not angry. "I understand you want Danny Ruskin on retainer as a consultant for your team."

"Correct. He helped crack the arson fraud case. His skills would be useful in a variety of cases."

Ruskin couldn't help the flush of pleasure at the recognition, albeit from a bunch of cops.

"I'll approve the consulting contract with a few conditions. Jane recommended Ruskin and continues to have some responsibility for making this work. Porter, you _are_ in charge, but I would like you to keep Cho and Jane in the loop whenever Ruskin's services are used. Ruskin, I hope you appreciate the CBI is taking a risk. If problems arise, let's resolve them sooner rather than later Can you all work with that? " Everyone nodded. Lisbon signed the contract and handed it to Porter. Everyone rose to leave. "Jane? A word, please."

After everyone filed out she leaned back and relaxed. "I called Marbric and made an appointment for Wednesday afternoon for us. That okay?"

"Lisbon, isn't that premature? We haven't agreed on what to do."

"Patrick, what are we waiting for? You've pointed out that it could take a long time, especially if we're going to do just one each try."

"Teresa, I want us to meet with Al Turner after work today. Ally offered to be a surrogate."

"Jane! You can't just spring that on me like it's a done deal."

Patiently, "I'm not the one rushing things and nothing is decided. We're just going to talk, Teresa."

She huffed, then acquiesced. "All right, Patrick. But I'm not okay if you're twisting her arm to do this."

"Have a little faith, my dear." Glancing to make sure the door was closed, he kissed her on the cheek and left.

**Cho's Team**

"Figure out your top five picks. We'll meet again at four." Cho's hand rested on a stack of 30 files. "I want to get started on interviews before we get another case."

"Cho, why limit ourselves to newbie academy grads? What about experienced agents?"

"Rigs, look around. The good agents are happy on their current teams. Don't want the bad ones. And-" He looked pointedly at Jane, "it'll be easier to break in someone new."

"Yeah," muttered Van Pelt. _Sink or swim_, she thought, recalling her first encounter with Jane. Law enforcement had never been quite the same since.

The group broke up. Rigsby and Van Pelt each grabbed a handful of folders to review. Jane solicited carry-out orders before he left for lunch. Cho resumed working his way through the paperwork – the downside of having his own team.

**Jane and Abbott**

"Patrick Jane. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Blake," Jane responded nonchalantly as he draped himself on the chair in front of Abbott's desk. Jane studied him, rubbing his chin with a forefinger. "Agent Abbott, seems to me you have an embarrassment of riches."

Abbott looked at him impassively, "Your point?"

"Blake's the kind of case that can make your career. It started out as a network of corrupt cops in California. It's now - what – 20 states and thousands?"

"Yes. Still waiting for the point, Mr. Jane."

Jane straightened and leaned forward a bit. "Blake is either your golden ticket or your road to disaster. It's not a good sign when there are undiscovered Blake members in the CBI after a year." Abbott's expression didn't change, but Jane readily read irritation both at his broaching the topic and at the truth of the statement.

"Agent Cho made that point last week. Do you have something to add?"

"The CBI and FBI both are hurt by hidden remaining Blake members, not just in the CBI but all of California law enforcement."

"So?"

"Why not let the CBI help clean up the mess?"

"Why are you raising this?"

"Last week got my attention."

Abbott looked away. Jane suppressed a smile at Abbott's disadvantage.

"What do you have in mind, Jane?"

"The CBI knows California law enforcement. Let the CBI mop up the rest of Blake in California. Cho's team can take lead. That frees you to focus on the rest of the country – something the CBI can't do."

"And what do Lisbon and Cho think of that?"

Breezily, "Oh, I haven't mentioned it yet. I'm confident they'll see the logic of it." Abbott relaxed fractionally. "Careful, Abbott. Smiling would violate FBI regs – or something."

Annoyance joined amusement in Abbott's eyes. "Gotta hand it to you, Jane. You have ba– initiative. Yeah. I might be interested in a deal like that. But the FBI calls the shots."

"Cho's team is the best in California. Micro-managing and second guessing won't work and aren't necessary. Partners. Not subordinate." Abbott hesitated. "This is the team that broke open Blake and finished Red John. After investigating us for months you _know _we're clean. And effective."

Abbott leaned back. "If Lisbon calls, I'd be interested in talking." After a moment more, "Why, Jane? What's in it for you?"

"Everyone wins by getting rid of the corruption. And I want to get on with my life without having to look over my shoulder."

"Fair enough. I imagine I'll be hearing from the CBI?"

Jane flashed his most charming grin, "Yes you will, Dennis."

Jane picked up take-out lunch for his three colleagues on his way back. He also called Ally Turner and set up meeting for coffee at a nearby sports bar after work.

**Turner**

"Danny, I'm having coffee with Paddy and Teresa at five this afternoon. I need to talk to Teresa alone. ... It's personal. Doesn't affect you. ... I need a favor, that's why. Can you get Paddy to leave so I can talk with her alone? ... That'd be great. I'll text you as soon as they come in. Give me ten minutes and then get Paddy out of there. ... Fine. What did you decide about consulting? ... That's great. Jinda will be ecstatic! ... So she's giving you six months to show you can do it? ... Can you blame her? ... Don't screw it up, Danny. I'm happy you found someone. ... Thanks. Tell you later, maybe."

**Cho's Team**

Cho tacked up nine photos labeled with names on the crime board. They were the nine graduating from the CBI academy of interest to someone on Cho's team.

Van Pelt was mildly uncomfortable having her prospective teammates listed on the _crime board_. Somehow it didn't seem right since they were law enforcement, not victims or suspects. Glancing around discretely, she set it aside since no one else seemed to think anything of it.

"Four of us pulled out Jacob Lanton. Three each chose – Robert Chennowyth, Mykaela Crenshaw and Terrance Thorpe. Then one or two of us thought Andrew Birch, Dwight Jorgenson, Justin Scott, William Henderson, and Enrico Veracruz were worth a look. Let's start with Lanton. Thoughts?" The three looked at the photo of the big, serious man who looked to be in his late 20's.

Rigsby offered, "Five years as an LA cop. Good record. Top quarter of his academy class. Why not?"

Van Pelt offered her comments. "He's one of my picks, but not the highest. I mean, he's solid, but he's just a straight cop. I was hoping he'd bring something more to the table."

"Like?"

"Rigsby knows arson. I've got computers covered. Jane's got his whole bag of tricks. And you're ex-special forces."

Jane rocked back and forth in his conference table chair. "I'm with Grace. Instead of 'why not' the better question is 'why?' He looks like Sam Bosco, just more charm." That earned him a dirty look from Cho. "What? I concede Sam was a good cop. He just wasn't a particularly flexible guy."

"How about Chennowyth?" Their eyes turned to the next photo. Chennowyth was handsome with an engaging grin.

Jane spoke up first, "I didn't like him. Ambitious-"

"-And what's wrong with that?" interjected Van Pelt.

"Ambitious like Gale Bertram. Not corrupt, just someone keen on climbing the bureaucracy."

Cho weighed in. "His record says glory hound to me, too. Look at the awards. A lot of them are fluff. He's checking off boxes, filling a resume. That said, he's got a solid record in the field and at he academy. Seems to know a lot about financial crimes."

Rigsby grimaced, "He was one of my five, but I didn't think about the awards stuff. I'm not keen on working with someone who's busy reaching for the brass ring all the time. Gets old. Would he fit in? Not sure."

"Crenshaw?" The next photo showed a 30-something slender black woman intensely staring out of the photo. Hair pulled severely back, only Van Pelt and Jane noticed that she deliberately downplayed her beauty.

Van Pelt opened her mouth, then decided to wait, not wanting to be the first to speak up for another woman. Jane spoke first. "I like her."

Rigsby challenged him, "Why? She's not the top of the class, only three years on the street as a cop. Also, she's pretty small. Would she be able to hack the physical side of it?"

Van Pelt couldn't let that pass, "Wayne, I can't believe you said that! Size isn't the only important thing. Look at Lisbon! I've never heard you say she couldn't handle the street."

Jane continued, ignoring his two colleagues. "She served in Afghanistan as a medic. Came back and got a four-year nursing degree. Switched to law enforcement. Driven to make a difference."

"What about her academy record? Nowhere close to the top."

"She was moonlighting as a nurse–"

"Which is against the rules."

Jane shrugged, "Speaks to flexibility, initiative. Not a stickler for the rule book."

Cho weighed in. "I read her application essay. Sounds smart. Got into law enforcement because her younger brother was killed by a street gang in LA." He pointed to the next photo. "What about Thorpe? He's the last one three of us liked." Thorpe was in his late 20's, handsome, well-built, serious.

Rigsby opened, "I like him. Good record as a cop, top quarter at the academy, commendations for bravery. His bosses speak well of him. Expert marksman."

Jane said, "White bread."

"What?" asked Van Pelt.

"White bread. Look at his background. Prep school, private university. He did good work as a cop in a sedate, upscale city. I think he would be very good, just not here."

"Why?"

"Can't imagine him dealing with Red John. Or even the likes of Haibach, Volker, Panzer, Stiles."

Rigsby muttered under his breath, "Hell, Stiles gives me the willies."

Checking the clock, Cho said, "Let's leave the rest for later. Rank these four, 1 being high. We'll bring in the top two." He gathered the slips of paper. "Okay. Lanton and Crenshaw."

Rigsby and Van Pelt got up and gathered their things and headed to the elevator. Jane got tea then sank down on his couch facing Cho's desk.

"Cho?"

"Yeah, Jane?" Cho glanced up from organizing the files on his desk.

"What do you think about the FBI's work on Blake?"

"Why?"

"Humor me."

"They've got a lot to chew. Nationwide now. Not happy about the CBI still being infiltrated."

"Think you could do a better job?"

Cho let the papers fall to the desk to pay full attention to Jane. "Spit it out. What are you after?"

"I want us to finish cleaning up Blake in California."

"FBI has jurisdiction."

"Abbott is willing to hand it over to you."

'Not exactly homicide."

Jane allowed his disbelief to show. "Corrupt law enforcement isn't important enough, Cho?"

Cho sighed, even though his expression didn't change. "I'll think about it."

Jane nodded, knowing when not to push. He finished his tea, took the cup and saucer to the break room, and left to meet Lisbon.

**Lisbon, Turner, and Jane**

Lisbon and Jane walked up to the sports bar booth where Ally Turner was seated.

"Ally," Lisbon smiled in greeting. "Nice seeing you again."

Effusive as always, Turner rose and gave Lisbon a hug and kissed Jane on the cheek. "You've been a stranger since my folks' barbeque last summer."

"A little busy. You'd know about busy since you're – what – at the tail end of your residency?"

"Almost done. May." The server came and took their drink orders. Jane ordered an appetizer in hopes the food would facilitate a friendly, low key discussion. She took a sip of her soda and plunged in. "Paddy told me you're working with an infertility clinic to have kids."

Lisbon sat back, mildly uncomfortable talking about it. She set that aside, knowing that Turner was one of Jane's few long-time friends. "Patrick and I want to have kids. I – uh, did he explain where we stand?"

"Yes he did. Look, for better or worse, IVF is a fact of life for a lot of women. About 15 percent of all US births involve assisted technologies – over 65,000 a year. Female doctors talk about it among ourselves all the time. Career versus biological clock and all."

Lisbon looked over at Jane, who was being uncharacteristically quiet. She started, "I –" then broke off as Jane's cell phone rang.

"Sorry. It's Danny. Better take it." Both women waited politely as he listened. "Now? Can it wait? ... Okay, I guess. ... Hang on." Jane turned to the women. "Danny's in some kind of bind and asked if I could meet him right now. Uh–"

Turner responded, "If it's okay with Teresa, it's okay with me. We'll be here when you get back. –Teresa?"

Lisbon shrugged. When Jane looked at her she nodded and said, "Go ahead. Al and I can talk for a bit."

"Danny? I'll be right there. What's the address again?" Jane slid out of the booth, gave Lisbon a peck on the cheek and left.

Lisbon smiled. "Always something with Danny?"

"I asked Danny to get Paddy away because I'd like to talk with you alone. –Did he tell you about my offer?"

"He did. I don't know what to think."

"Teresa, if you don't mind, tell me what you want. Tell me your thinking about all this."

Lisbon idly played with the coaster, making patterns in the water from the condensation from her soda. "Al, I always wanted a family. Marriage to the right guy was the problem. I'm sure of this. Jane and I have been partners and more-than-partners for 11 years. He's who I want to grow old with. He's who I want kids with."

"What about marriage? Uh–"

She laughed. "That's the least of it. Jane offers at least once a month. We'll get married as soon as I can get the breathing room from the CBI work."

"The CBI is important to you, right?"

"This is my chance to get the CBI back to an honest, effective law enforcement agency. It's been so bad for so long. What we do matters and I can fix this."

"So how does the CBI fit in with the personal?"

Lisbon spread her hands. "I want both. It, it may not be rational or reasonable. I want to have kids with Patrick. And I want to finish what I've started with the CBI. I can't give up either one."

"Paddy says you have ova frozen from your mid-30's, right?"

"Umhm."

"So what is your thinking about having children?"

"Going the natural route doesn't seem promising. Even if I conceived, I have tubal scarring and my mom had pre-eclampsia. So, we kind of back into the idea of IVF."

"And?"

"And I want to try one embryo at a time till we have a child. Patrick wants to go the surrogacy route."

"Teresa, I checked with my colleagues. One at a time isn't very practical. It could take a long time. Spontaneous abortion is losing a _wanted_ pregnancy. It has the impact of losing a child. And you're still at risk for pre-eclampsia. If it occurs, pre-eclampsia is serious."

"Is there a way of preventing it or fixing it if it occurs?"

"It's hard to predict. You have several risk factors that increase the odds of it occurring. Unfortunately, it is among the most common serious risks in pregnancy. Treatment involves medication, lowering stress levels, and often months of bed rest if not hospitalization. The only true resolution is delivery. So on the one hand, prolonging the pregnancy to as close to term as possible allows the baby to more fully develop. On the other hand, the high blood pressure carries very high risks for the health and even life of the mother and child. What would months of bed rest do to your work at the CBI?"

"It would be a major blow," Lisbon answered quietly.

Turner leaned closer. "So, why not consider a surrogate?"

"Ally, I can't ask you to do something like that."

"You're not. I'm offering."

"Did Patrick talk you into this?"

"No, he didn't."

"Then why?"

Turner looked down. "I'm willing to do this for my own reasons. You know Paddy saved me from drowning when I was just four?" Lisbon nodded. "He was he my idol growing up. And he gave me my chance to become a doctor. He set up a fund for college, medical school and even my residency. He doesn't even want me to pay him back. Said to do charity care instead of repaying him."

"I didn't know that."

Uncharacteristically serious, Turner added, "Those are the things I can list. Even more, I couldn't do anything about what happened to Angie and Charlie, wasn't even there for him when he was in the asylum. God, Teresa, I want so much for him to have a life again, to be happy. He's scared to death something would happen to you. By being your surrogate, he can have a new family without that fear. That's worth a lot to me."

Lisbon swallowed at the surfeit of emotion. She cleared her throat and asked softly, "You really want to do this for your own reasons?"

Turner nodded.

"You can face the thought of carrying a baby nine months and then giving it to someone else?"

"Only to you and Paddy. I don't think I could do it for anyone else. And–" she looked up suddenly, eyes sparkling, "you _are_ going to let Aunt Ally be around a lot, right?"

Lisbon grinned despite herself. "Yeah. I can see I couldn't keep you away!"

"Better believe it."

"How exactly would this work?"

"We will have to talk to your doctor. As a starting point, I'm willing to have three embryos implanted. The odds of triplets are only one percent - so that probably won't be an issue. Twins aren't even that likely, but I am willing to carry twins if that happens."

"What if it _is_ triplets?"

Turner shook her head. "I'll go along with what you and Paddy decide so long as it doesn't threaten my life or health."

"That sounds very reasonable."

A wide smile broke over Turner's face. "So you'll do it?"

Lisbon sat back, half frowning, half smiling. "What is _with_ you carny folk? You never let up! –Patrick and I need to talk. Bless you for offering though I'll understand if you change your mind."

Solemnly, "I won't." She smiled again, "Hey. I hear a burger and fries calling to me. Wanna order while we wait for Paddy?"

"A woman after my own heart."

**Lisbon and Jane**

Lisbon and Jane sat on the couch, content in each other's company as shadows lengthened and the sun sank below the trees.

"You know Ally talked to me about her being a surrogate?"

"Danny wasn't in trouble when I got there. I figured Al set it up."

"You're really afraid of pre-eclampsia?"

"More than I can express. I can't–"

"Shhh." She turned and kissed him quiet, kissed him calm. "As much as I hate to ask something that ... huge, it makes sense." After a moment, "Patrick, do you know 15 percent of US babies involve IVF or some other assistance? That's 65,000 a year!"

He shook his head. "Didn't know till Al mentioned it."

She sighed. "Somehow, that makes it more real. A _lot_ of people do this and it works."

"So . . . you're okay with Ally being a surrogate for us?"

She nodded and hugged him a little tighter. "Yeah."

"What changed your mind?"

"A lot of things. Once I let go of the way I _thought_ things should work, I can see this makes sense. Patrick, after the last decade I'm just _tired_ of dangerous and depressing and grim."

He looked at her, sensing there was more. "And?"

"And I can't bear the thought of you being ripped up by the 'what if's' for nine months. . . . And I can't stomach the idea of failing my responsibilities to the CBI if I did have . . . health issues."

His lips quirked at the corners. "You know, love, it isn't a crime to choose the easier path now and then."

She smiled widely, "I'm beginning to realize that. . . . Cho talked to me a few days ago."

"About?"

"You. He's worried you're distracted, missing things."

He huffed. "A bit of an exaggeration, I think."

"Hey. It's nothing against you. Just reminded me of my responsibilities to you, as your wife."

"A-hem. You _would_ be my wife if you could tear yourself away from your other love - the CBI."

Exasperated, "I'm trying to say something nice, here, Boy Wonder. As I was saying, I can't feel good about distracting you for months or years on end if we did it the way I wanted at first. I'm mostly sitting behind a desk now. You're already a disaster waiting to happen in the field." She ignored his snort. "I can't expect Cho to keep you safe if you're even more distracted than usual. Especially not long term."

"So?"

"So maybe I should include Ally in our next meeting with Marbric."

He smiled. "Sounds good to me." He thoroughly kissed her then added, "I love you, Teresa Lisbon."


	19. Chapter 19 - Setting Things Up

**Chapter 19: Setting Things Up**

**Cho's Team**

Cho glanced up as Jane strolled in. Neither Rigsby nor Van Pelt were in yet.

"Hey, Cho."

"Let's talk about Blake."

Jane sank down on his couch, setting his cup and saucer on the arm. Looking closely at Cho a smile slowly spread across his face. "I see you agree."

"Jane, either we talk, or you can keep guessing." After a moment, "Yeah, I think we can do a better job mopping up Blake than Abbott at this point."

"But you have reservations." It wasn't a question.

"You're my reservation, Jane."

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. Then more seriously, "What, Cho?"

"One team isn't enough to go after dozens of Blake members. Lisbon's still short-handed and can't assign other teams to Blake. We need to work with the California FBI."

Jane smiled politely. "Yes."

"You raised this, Jane. Can you play nice with the FBI and get the job done? If not, say so now. Save us all a lot of grief."

Jane's expression hardened. "If they meet me half way, I'll do my best to cooperate. They need to listen if I read a suspect as Blake, no matter what political pull he has."

"They won't. But I will and they'll listen to me. You in or not?"

"In on what?" asked Rigsby, draping his jacket on the chair back.

"I'm in," Jane answered curtly.

"I'm asking Hightower to let us go after the rest of Blake," Cho told Rigsby.

"O-kay." Rigsby looked thoughtful, quickly filling in the blanks. "When will we know?"

"I'll talk with Hightower-" he looked at his watch, realizing it was time for his standing meeting with her, "right now. If she okays it, then it's up to Lisbon, Abbott and the California FBI." Cho gathered some files and left.

Rigsby looked speculatively at Jane. "You're up to your eyeballs in this. Why?"

He shrugged. "Needs doing." He left to get another cup of tea. Van Pelt came in and dropped laptop, purse, and files on her desk. Rigsby stepped over to fill her in. A few minutes later they both looked up in surprise as Danny Ruskin strolled in.

"Hi, Wayne, Grace. Patrick around?"

"He's getting tea. Or maybe in the men's room. Slumming?"

"Nah. Patrick asked me to stop by. Slow day in Fraud."

Van Pelt looked around without seeing Jane. She smiled at Ruskin. "Hey, Danny. I wonder if you could help me out?"

He eyed her warily, though not minding getting attention from the gorgeous redhead. Rigsby frowned but didn't interfere. "What do you want?"

"Jane's pulled a bunch of stunts on me over the years. Nothing bad. It's just that we tend to come out on the losing end of his little bets, y'know?"

Ruskin grinned, "Oh, yeah. I can believe it."

Tongue poking her cheek out, deliberately adorable, "I was wondering if you'd help me get back at him now and then?"

"What's in it for me?"

Her smile grew. "Fun. A piece of the action if money's involved. Nothing more than a friendly wager or two."

"Hell yes. It's boring around here most of the time." Catching sight of Jane walking toward the bullpen, "Just let me know."

"Hey, Danny. Thanks for coming up here."

"What's up, Boy Wonder?"

"I have a little project I need your help on." Van Pelt turned to leave, "Wait a sec, Grace. I need you, too."

Two hours later Jane and Ruskin were strolling the halls of the California FBI building. Van Pelt had called the president's office of California Electronics and Aeronautics. Pretending to be an FBI assistant, she said she needed to confirm the appointment of Roger Kramer to be interviewed by the FBI. Kramer's secretary graciously agreed to move up the interview by 15 minutes.

Jane and Ruskin talked their way into the FBI building. Ruskin followed Kramer up. Jane lagged behind, afraid of being recognized. After Kramer was seated in an interview room, Jane ducked into the adjoining room with the one-way glass. Ruskin "accidentally" stuck his head into Kramer's room.

"Oh. Are you Bernie Sanderson?"

Kramer jerked minutely in surprise, recovered, and answered, "No."

"Sorry. Know where he might be?"

"No. Never met the man in my life."

"Thanks. Sorry to interrupt."

Jane and Ruskin made their way to the elevator. Jane smiled and nodded as several FBI agents recognized him.

**Hightower, Cho and Jane**

"Jane. Meeting with Hightower in ten minutes."

"Why?"

"Your idea. You get to sell it."

Fifteen minutes later Cho and Jane were seated in Hightower's office.

"Cho, Patrick. -Patrick, you want to help clean up Blake." He nodded. "Why?"

"Madeline, the CBI and California FBI know the state, are better equipped to finish up than Abbott."

Dryly. "How very civic-minded of you. Again, why?"

"I'm tired of being a target. We're the best for finishing this up."

"I don't disagree. But the CBI is already understaffed. Your project takes resources away from clearing murders and other serious crimes."

"Getting rid of corruption makes our job easier in the long run. Less crime. More honest work at the local levels. Fewer cases referred to the CBI."

"Can't disagree with that." She looked Jane over silently. "Cho and I agree it's worthwhile. Cho tells me you think you can work with the California FBI."

"Yes, I can."

"Really?" She pressed a button on her phone. "Evan, send Mr. Ruskin in, please." She waited as Danny Ruskin seated himself in the third chair in front of her desk. "Mr. Ruskin, what were you doing in the FBI building today?"

Cho frowned.

"Just walking around."

Hightower looked at Jane. "I'm confident you and Mr. Ruskin weren't sightseeing. What's the story?"

Jane leaned back, "Madeline, the FBI was interviewing Roger Kramer today. He's president of California Electronics and Aeronautics. I wanted to check if there's something going on with Bernie Sanderson."

"And?"

"I think there is. He flinched and covered when Danny mentioned the name to Kramer."

"And pray tell how did the FBI react to your little fishing expedition?"

"They never knew. I just said 'Hi' on my way out."

Hightower sat back, lips pressed in a straight line. "Patrick, I heard from three sources in the FBI that you had been there. This kind of thing will kill any chance of an effective working relationship. Do you think you can control yourself if we go after Blake with the California FBI? Or, should we forget it right now?"

Jane tipped his head, discomfited at being nailed. "I can work with them."

"Make me believe it."

"Madeline, Blake is important. I promise I'll make it work."

She sighed. "All right. I'll broach it with the Director. You two–" she pointed at Cho and Jane, "leave. Ruskin, stay." After they left, "How are you doing at the CBI?"

He replied cautiously, "So far, so good. I've helped on several cases. I'm keeping my nose clean."

She nodded. "So I've heard. Be sure it stays that way. Patrick will lose big if you mess up, Mr. Ruskin."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you." As he made his way back to the Fraud division, Ruskin went over his exchange with Hightower. _Sonnavabitch. They actually have Boy Wonder's back. Huh!_

**Lisbon and Jane**

Dinner over, she slammed the silverware drawer shut so hard the wall shuddered. "You did _what?!"_

Jane moved to put his arms around her. Lisbon angrily pulled away and confronted him, legs spread, arms akimbo.

"Goddammit, Jane. You went behind my back, deciding the CBI needs to take on Blake. What gives you the right?"

"Hey," he responded mildly. "No decisions. I just had a nice, low-key talk with Dennis and–"

"–and nothing. You've already manipulated Cho and Hightower. I'm up to my neck trying – _trying_ – to get the CBI on track and you're dragging us into Blake again. What? Blake almost killing you two weeks ago wasn't enough _fun_?"

Jane handed her the after-dinner espresso he'd prepared, then sat down at their kitchen table. Lisbon set it down, liquid sloshing on the counter and banged around the kitchen for several minutes more. Finally, facing the kitchen sink – anywhere but him – she took a deep breath and stilled. After a moment she picked up her mug, absently wiped the spill with a sponge, and sat opposite him at the table.

He began carefully. "Lisbon, I 'm not trying to usurp your authority, your plans for the CBI." She opened her mouth to respond, then stopped as he motioned, palms up, in supplication. "Teresa, I sounded Abbott out to _create_ options – not close them off."

Quietly. "Why do I need that option?"

"Think about it, love. You're rehabilitating the CBI. What for? Just to restore an institution? Or is it for what the CBI can accomplish?"

She swallowed. "_Of course_ it's about the CBI being _capable_, of being _effective_ in law enforcement."

His gaze pinned her with its intensity. "What could be more important than ridding the whole law enforcement machinery of corruption? You took the director job because the impact is so much greater than a team leader could have. Mopping up Blake throughout California extends the good you're trying to do with the CBI, no?"

She sighed and slumped. "Sure. But there are limits to what the CBI can do. This is Abbott's job for good reason. He has the resources, the sheer manpower to get the job done."

"Like he did with Merton Williams?"

Her mouth dropped open like a fish gasping in air. "Cheap shot, Jane! The FBI is working on it!"

"It's been a year! The FBI got a lot of them. Unfortunately, the ones left will be the hardest to find – and the most dangerous."

"We. Don't. Have. The. Manpower!"

"Cho's team and the California FBI do. We can work together."

She gaped at him in amazement. "Patrick Jane is suggesting we work with the local FBI? After you pissed them off so royally getting Lorelei, and then getting her back? Jane! That's crazy."

"It's not. It's what needs to happen."

She leaned back and looked him up and down with suspicion. "Jane, what's really going on?" She saw through his first impulse, the easy grin designed to distract and divert. "Oh no you don't. The truth, Jane."

His grin faded. He leaned back sipping his tea, letting the tension dissipate. "Teresa, we are hell bent on starting a family. Merton Williams got my attention. I don't want to raise a family always looking over my shoulder, always worried you're in danger. Or our child." He leaned in, every line of his body screaming conviction. "We can clean up the rest of Blake in California. We _should_ do it for our family."

Lisbon leaned back, eyes closed. When she opened them he scrutinized her face, frowning. "What? You're worried about more than the CBI."

She straightened, eyes fixed on his. "Red John's death ended ten years of obsession. _Your_ obsession. What will going after Blake mean?" Softly, "I can't bear the thought of you getting caught up again so that nothing else matters, nothing is beyond the pale."

He looked away. "Oh." After a moment, "It won't be like that. I want to work as part of the team. I even want to work with the California FBI because it isn't something I – or any one team – can do alone. You have to believe me on this, Teresa."

She read his face relying on 12 years of hard-won experience. "Okay. God help me but I do. And, yes, I can see how the CBI and California FBI are better for finishing the job than Abbott."

"You'll talk to Abbott?"

"I'll call tomorrow."


	20. Chapter 20 - Nudging Things in Motion

**Chapter 20: Nudging Things in Motion**

**Cho'sTeam**

Cho motioned to the vacant seat around the conference table. "Mr. Lanton. This is the team. Agents Rigsby and Van Pelt. Consultant Patrick Jane. After we're done meeting as a group, you'll talk to Rigsby, Van Pelt and Jane individually. Afterward, I'll answer any questions you may have."

Rigsby opened. "Why join the CBI? Why not just stay a cop?"

Jane leaned back and masked a mental yawn. _Standard interview question 101. And –_

Lanton replied, "I figure I can do more good at the CBI. More interesting crimes, crimes with a bigger impact."

Jane finished the thought. _ -standard answer 101. Boring._

Van Pelt was next. "You have a good record–"

Jane noticed Landon frown for a fraction of a second at "good." –_ Hmm. Thinks it's better than good. Big fish, small pond._

"–but I was wondering. Are there any particular areas you specialize in?"

"I've handled a range of crimes – assault, domestic violence, fraud–"

Cho interjected, "What kind of fraud?"

"Check kiting, mainly. Embezzlement at a bank once. And several homicides. There really hasn't been an opportunity to specialize." _Except for the rest of your life, _was Jane's silent rebuttal. _Point for Van Pelt._

Rigsby again. "What do you do in your spare time?"_ Another standard question, but it does augment Van Pelt's. Nice follow-up, Rigs_, mused Jane.

"Sports – handball, baseball. Judo and boxing. Hiking. Target practice, of course."

Jane interjected, "Do you read?"

"Sure. The law enforcement journals and daily paper. I like a good spy novel and action movie once in a while. I, uh, like reading about gardening, too." He shrugged, faintly embarrassed. "My wife is big on gardening and got me involved."

Jane smiled engagingly. "What do you think of the Blake Association corruption? And the CBI's role in it?"

Rigsby's eyes widened, shocked that Jane would raise the CBI's shameful failure to police its own. Van Pelt shot a look at her husband, warning him to shut up and pay attention.

Lanton swallowed, regrouping after the mental whiplash of Jane's change of topic. "The Blake corruption is an insult to every person in this state. Everyone in law enforcement should be ashamed of tolerating corruption in the ranks. The CBI is part of that failure to uphold the law."

_Obvious answer, although delivered with a bit of heat. Man isn't a total automaton. _Jane continued, "And what would you have done to clean it up?"

"Whatever it took to expose the dirty cops and disrupt the network."

"'_Whatever'_ it took? How?"

Lanton shifted in his chair. "Standard investigation protocol. Identify as many members as possible. Lean on them for leads to others. Collect evidence, build cases, turn it over to the AG's office for prosecution."

"What if the standard investigation protocol wasn't enough? What then?"

"I – I guess you keep trying till something works."

"And if your superiors tell you to stop?"

"I–" Lanton fell silent, clearly out of his depth faced with the fact of corrupt superiors.

Cho broke the silence after an agonizing pause for Lanton. "What would you expect your first year to look like if you joined this unit?"

Lanton looked relieved at a 'normal' question. "I'd be low man on the totem pole. I'd do whatever I'm assigned. I hope I would get a chance to work all aspects of the investigations."

Van Pelt asked, "What if you spent most of the first year manning the fort – here – while the rest of the team was in the field?"

Lanton hesitated a moment. "I probably wouldn't like it, but I would follow orders. It's not my call how the unit is deployed." Jane raised his eyebrows. _Honest, anyhow. Wouldn't be happy when actually stuck here, though._

Rigsby asked next. "Any reservations working with a civilian – our consultant?"

Lanton's jaw clenched a second. "No. This unit has a great record. I'd be a fool to have reservations before knowing what I'm talking about."

_Polite. . . . Predictable. Solid. Stolid. Meh._

Lanton's interview ended an hour later after he'd braved - survived - individual meetings with each of the four, He figured he hadn't done badly. Van Pelt seemed sharp, competent despite being eye candy for every male within sight. He liked Rigsby best, although realized he'd somehow stumbled when he expressed curiosity about whether female agents _really_ could handle all aspects of the job, particularly the physical ones. He was least comfortable with Jane, never quite getting a handle on where he stood with the strange civilian. He didn't know what to make of Jane's discourse on tea and said as little as possible. Cho was straightforward, but Lanton worried that he couldn't read him worth a damn. Cho would notify him of the decision by week's end.

Cho met with his team after Lanton left.

"Verdict? Rigs?"

"He'd be okay. I don't like him as much as I thought I would."

"Van Pelt?"

"I agree with Wayne. He'd be okay, but I still think we should go after someone who's more . . . versatile."

"Jane?"

"Meh. Solid. Boring. He'd have trouble thinking or working outside the box."

"Similar take to you three. We could work with Lanton. We should try to do better. Crenshaw's coming in tomorrow."

**The FBI, California FBI, and CBI**

Cho tagged names to faces as they filed into Abbott's conference room. Director Mancini and Agents Simpson and Reinholdt from the California FBI. Aside from himself, Lisbon, Hightower, and Jane were present from the CBI. Abbott sat at the head of the table. Mancini and his agents sat on one side; those from the CBI, the other. Cho chose the corner seat diagonally opposite Mancini's group. _Ringside seat._

Looking around the table Abbott asked, "You all know each other, right?" Everyone nodded. "It's been eight months since the Blake Association was exposed. My teams have ID'd over two-thousand Blake members in all areas of California law enforcement. And the investigation has spread to 24 states. I asked to meet with you because recent events–" his eyes flicked to Jane then Cho, "showed we missed a few. I'd like the California FBI and the CBI to take lead on Blake in California from here on." He scanned the faces for reactions.

Mancini responded first. "My teams _have_ been providing every assistance you requested. Why change? Why now?"

"Bluntly, you know the law enforcement players in California - an advantage I don't have. And, as my teams now have to root out Blake members in other states, I'd like to focus my attention there. Now that the bulk of Blake members are in prison or awaiting trial, I think it's time for the California FBI and the CBI to take over."

Mancini ignored Lisbon, Hightower, Cho and Jane. "Abbott, if that's the way you see it, the California FBI can handle the job. No need to complicate things."

"I disagree. Both organizations have a stake in this. Both lost credibility because Blake had infiltrated the two bureaus."

Frustrated, "Former Director Bertram of the CBI was a high ranking member of Blake. What does the CBI have to contribute beyond my FBI teams?

Hightower broke in. "_Director_ Mancini, wasn't your elevation due to the arrest of _Director_ Alexa Schultz as a Blake member?" she asked politely.

Mancini replied, temper apparent beneath a surface calm. "Shultz was a bit player. Nothing like Bertram." Cho thought, _See your Director-_

Jane smiled brilliantly, "As was Reede Smith – your _partner_, as I recall." Cho finished, _-raise you one partner._

Mancini flushed, jaw clenched. _No forgive and forget,_ thought Cho, recalling the brawl Jane started with Mancini after Lorelei's capture, and then Jane's trick that falsely fingered Mancini as a Red John follower.

Eyes blazing, Lisbon interrupted before Jane could continue. "Jane, you may wait outside." After the door closed, "Dennis, mind if we have a brief break for coffee?"

"Of course."

Except for Cho, the remaining people got up and crowded around the coffee cart. Lisbon put her hand on Mancini's arm, "I'm sorry about that, Gabe. If we work together, you _won't_ have to deal directly with Jane." _Lisbon pretends Jane p.o.'d both of them. Now they have their annoyance at him in common. Bet Mancini agrees to the deal._

Sotto voce, Mancini drew Lisbon aside, "Seriously Teresa, I can't believe you put up with him. –I know, he closes cases, but what a jackass."

Lisbon swallowed any difference she might have with his assessment. "Gabe, he's useful enough to be worth it. –Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to revive our Thursday poker night tradition? I miss it."

He smiled and leaned closer to her, "Yeah, I enjoyed that." He grimaced, "No loss that Bertram and Shultz are gone. But I always enjoyed Manchester and Dawkins. Think Abbott would join us? Does Hightower play?" Passing them on his way to the coffee, Cho gave a soft grunt, _And now it's "us" for after-hours poker. Well done, Jane, Lisbon._

The rest of the meeting went smoothly. The California FBI and the CBI would take lead, coordinating their work as partners. Because of sheer manpower resources, Mancini's team would do the bulk of the leg work. Cho's team would help with that, but focus on interviews. Mancini even agreed that Jane should be involved with as many interviews as possible – at least as a behind-the-mirror observer. Abbott, Mancini, and Lisbon would approach the AG and governor to help in pressing the California municipalities to have their top law enforcement people to submit to interviews. Without evidence, without "reasonable cause" to suspect a crime, they wouldn't have the legal authority to _require_ all those people to submit to interviews. But pressure from the governor on down would create strong political and social pressure to do so. Any municipalities and people who refused would ensure special scrutiny by the California FBI and the CBI agents.

The meeting broke up. Mancini followed Lisbon out the door. Touching her elbow, he said, "Call me if you can get that poker game set up, Teresa." He pointedly ignored Jane, who looked disgruntled. Cho snorted to himself, _Jane shows what he needs to get his way. It's gonna be interesting working with Mancini. Wonder if he realizes he's been played?_ After a moment._ Nah._

Hightower, Cho, and Jane grouped together, having shared a ride to the meeting.

"Jane, a word," Lisbon called out neutrally. When he was by her side, "We have that appointment at four-fifteen this afternoon. I'll pick you up at four, okay?"

"Sure."

"Your good-cop-bad-cop with Mancini worked. A little obvious, wasn't it?"

Jane shrugged. "Not to Mancini. We got what we wanted."

She squeezed his arm. "Yeah. Now it's our hot potato again. We have to deliver."

"Have to anyhow for our family."

**Cho's Team**

"We'll work with several of Mancini's teams as equals. They have the numbers to do most of the legwork. We'll focus mainly on the higher up's, the Blake leaders. ID and put them away and the foot soldiers will take care of themselves. If they don't disappear, they'll gradually be exposed as dirty once Blake's cover-up machinery breaks down."

Van Pelt frowned. "What's the plan for people who refuse to be interviewed, or somehow evade us? Vacations, sudden illness, whatever?"

"We go after them informally. Find them in social settings and bring up Blake. See what Jane can pick up. Once we've identified someone as suspicious, Mancini's teams will follow up the lead."

Rigsby scratched his head. "I'm not sure this will work. We're pretty well known after the last year. Won't they just make us and clam up?"

Jane spoke up for the first time. "Danny can help set things up. No one knows his face. Also, his mug is a lot more forgettable than any of us." He waited a moment as his three colleagues thought it through. Danny Ruskin had a big advantage as a con man. He was a mid-30's guy with few memorable features. Handsome enough to suggest trustworthiness and grease access to people (especially women), but no memorable head of golden curls, three-piece suits, or brilliant smile. No 6' 4" height, or model-gorgeous redhead, or intimidating Asian presence. Jane continued, "Danny can initiate contacts in social settings. Give me a pair of binoculars and I'll at least cull the majority, those who _don't_ react to mention of Blake. Then Mancini's men check out the ones who might be Blake."

"Cho, we're going to be on the road forever with this."

"Yeah we will, Grace. Problem?"

"Nope. So long as we get the SOB's."

**Lisbon, Jane, Turner and Marbric**

"Mr. Jane, Ms. Lisbon," Marbric said, shaking their hands.

"This is Dr. Ally Turner. She is going to be our surrogate."

"Dr. Turner." Marbric shook her hand and motioned for them to be seated around the small table.

"Dr. Marbric, we've decided how we want to proceed," began Lisbon.

"Which is?"

"We want to use some of the ova I have frozen from five years ago, fertilized with Patrick's sperm. Because of the risk of pre-eclampsia, Ally has offered to be our surrogate. She'll carry the embryos, hopefully to delivery of our child."

He turned his attention to Turner. "Dr. Turner, you are willing to be a surrogate for Ms. Lisbon and Mr. Jane?".

"Yes, I am." She leaned down to rummage in her large tote. "Here. I've brought printouts of my medical records. I have no health conditions that would counter-indicate being a surrogate. Of course, I'll be happy to undergo whatever additional tests you deem necessary."

"Your specialty is–?"

"Just completing my cardiology residency."

"We require all potential surrogates to undergo counseling. This ensures her informed consent to a process that does, of course, involve risk, both physical and psychological. I realize that as a doctor you –"

Tuner shook her head, interrupting. "That's fine. I _want_ to learn more about your clinic's IVF protocols and results."

"The psychological impact is as important as the physical."

"Patrick has been a close friend for 30 years. I am also friends with Teresa. I'm not ignoring the ... emotional impact of giving birth and relinquishing the child. I'm going to have a continuing relationship with my friends and their family."

Marbric cleared his throat. "That is encouraging, doctor. Well, let me systematically go through the process."

Lisbon interrupted. "Dr. Marbric, Patrick and I do have some requirements because of ... religious and personal reasons."

"Yes?"

"We want to fertilize only the ova that will be immediately used. Creating and then failing to use embryos is unacceptable to us. My religion compels me to use all the embryos that we create."

Marbric's forehead creased as he considered that requirement, then glanced at her medical record. "Let's take this in two parts. You had ova stimulated and harvested on two separate occasions five years ago, for a total of 19. I do not know how many are in each group, but almost certainly more than the one or two we would typically fertilize and transfer in an IVF procedure."

Jane asked, "Can excess ova be re-frozen for possible future use?"

"That is becoming a reliable option with the process of vitrification. However, there is far less experience in the infertility field with freezing and refreezing ova than embryos. The short answer is yes, with reservations. Now, about using all the embryos. It is very common to fertilize more ova than can be used. This permits us to screen for serious genetic problems such as trisomy or Down Syndrome."

Lisbon swallowed and interrupted softly, "I can't accept that. As a Catholic, conception is a line I cannot cross. If the embryo is created, I feel compelled to use it."

"I respect your religious imperatives, Ms. Lisbon. It is a serious handicap in trying to deliver a healthy infant, however."

"I understand." She tilted her head. "Is it any different from what would occur naturally?"

He leaned back. "With IVF, that restriction is more a missed opportunity to sidestep the possibility of a seriously handicapped child."

"But you will respect our wishes."

"Yes." After a moment he asked, "Since you feel compelled to use every embryo created, would you consider donating the unused embryos to other couples experiencing-"

"No. Teresa and I thought about it. We don't want to do that."

"Of course."

"Doctor, could you outline the process, please?" Turner asked, interested in focusing on what they _would_ be doing.

"You would receive a drug regimen – similar to regular birth control pills – to control your menstrual cycle. That ensures we will be certain of transferring the embryos at the optimum time for implantation. About a week beforehand, we would thaw the ova to be used. They would be processed to select the healthiest, most viable ova." He glanced at Lisbon and Jane, relieved that this did not seem to pose a problem. "The appropriate number of ova would be fertilized with either fresh or frozen sperm from Mr. Jane. Because the freezing process makes it harder for sperm to penetrate the cell wall, our lab technicians would physically fertilize each ovum with one sperm in a procedure called intra‑cytoplasmic sperm injection or ICSI. Three to five days later, the embryos would be transferred to your uterus in a simple, quick office procedure."

"How many do you typically transfer?" Turner asked.

"With modern advances in the field, we typically transfer one or at most two embryos for women who are under age 35. That would also apply in this case since the ova were harvested before age 35 and also because selective reduction is unacceptable to you," he said looking at Lisbon and Jane. "It is highly desirable to avoid multiples. About two weeks later, you would take a simple pregnancy test to check for levels of hormones indicative of pregnancy. If the pregnancy test is positive, it is repeated in two or three days to verify that the hormone levels are rising consistent with pregnancy. Six to eight weeks into the pregnancy, an ultrasound is done to confirm the presence of a heartbeat and a gestational sac. After eight weeks, you would be referred to your own ob-gyn for regular pregnancy care."

He sat back to wait for any further questions, then asked to be sure. "Do you have any additional questions now?" All three shook their heads. "Here is a detailed description of the process. Ignore everything prior to fertilization since you already have ova harvested. Dr. Turner, my nurse will set up the follow-up appointments for various tests prior to beginning the medication to control your fertility cycle. Before you leave, I want to emphasize that there is every reason to believe this will succeed. Many thousands of children have been born with the help of IVF."

"Thank you," Lisbon said for them all. She and Jane sat down in the waiting room until Turner was done. The room was deserted except for them since it was the close of the clinic's office hours.

Turner came out fifteen minutes later. She grinned, "Hey, Paddy, Teresa. Ready to become parents?"

Lisbon took a deep breath. "This isn't the way I ever imagined it, but yeah." She gazed intensely at their friend. "Ally, are you _sure_ this is–"

"Oh, please! Prospective parenthood appears to mess with your heads. Yes, I'm sure. I'm glad to be able to help you." After hesitating a moment, Lisbon offered her a hug, which she immediately accepted. "Now you, Paddy."

An irrepressible smile broke across his face. He grabbed Turner around the waist and spun her around. Then he turned to Lisbon, swung her around and planted a big, sloppy kiss on her mouth. "I think this calls for dinner and champagne." His eyebrows rose and he added, "While you–" pointing to his friend, "can still drink alcohol." They made their way to their cars, Jane barely able to contain himself.


	21. Chapter 21 - Starting the Campaign

**Chapter 21: Starting the Campaign**

**Jane and Lisbon**

She lay draped over Jane, boneless and sated and supremely happy. Heartbeats and breathing slowed, the sheen of sweat from their exertions evaporated as they came down from having made love without any distracting tension for the first time in what felt like forever. The day before, Marbric had reassured Jane that an ectopic pregnancy could be diagnosed and treated in time to avoid serious risks to Lisbon. And Lisbon was relieved that accepting Ally Turner to be their surrogate meant she could continue her CBI reforms _and_ start the family that they wanted - that _she_ desperately wanted.

Lisbon snuggled more comfortably against Jane. He clasped her close and nuzzled her hair, bestowing tiny kisses on her temple and forehead. Their dinner with Ally Turner had broken up too late after too much food and champagne for love-making. But they woke early, joyful at finally having a clear path to starting their family. She levered herself up on an elbow to see the clock then collapsed back after confirming they had plenty of time before work.

"I love you, Teresa Lisbon," Jane murmured softly. "Things are finally going our way."

"Y'know, for a smart ass consultant you make a pretty good husband. I can't wait to see you as a father."

"I can't wait to be one ... again."

His fleeting frown and tightened lips didn't pass unnoticed. "Hey. Don't be sad. They'd want this for you."

He stirred slightly, happiness reasserting itself. "Yeah, I guess they would. I want to enjoy this with you, Teresa, not let the past cast shadows." She kissed him, applauding his effort, encouraging him to live in the present after so many years consumed by his past. He breathed deeply, giving free rein to imagining, to enjoying thinking about the changes that having a child would naturally trigger.

Eyebrows raised at his crooked grin, "Tell me, Patrick. What are you thinking?"

Smile mirroring the sunrise outside, "We have a lot of firsts to look forward to – to prepare for our baby."

Post-coital tranquility suddenly interrupted, "Like what?"

Caught up in pleasant anticipation mixed with pleasant memories, "Oh, we should get a house, somewhere easier to raise kids than an apartment. We need a short commute, so that means the city, but I still want room for them–"

"–_them?!"_

"–sure, let's be optimistic – to run and play. We'll have to make sure it's safe, not just the neighborhood, but a house and land that are easy to secure. Dogs can be one of the best security measures, you know? –_Of course_ you'd know. And then we need to think about child care. Your work is all-consuming, so it would make sense for me to take lead whenever flexibility is–"

"_Jane!"_

Her sharp tone and tensed muscles jarred him out of his pleasant daydreams. "Teresa, what's the matter?"

Frowning now, "It's overwhelming. And scary." She took a breath and voiced her own baby-triggered thoughts. "I mean, shouldn't we get life insurance? Wills, choose a guardian if something happened to both of us? Saving for college – or, or whatever. Um, all the stuff we never had to deal with when it was just us. I don't-"

"Shhh." He hugged her and stroked her back till the tension drained from her lithe frame. "There's no rush. We have months and months, even if Alley gets pregnant the first time we try. We'll talk it out. Remember, I've done this before. I know you don't have much time or flexibility, but I do." He looked down at her tenderly. "_Let me_ do the grunt work on this. We'll decide together, but it doesn't have to be a lot of extra work for you."

She sighed, mollified. "Okay. It's all new, a lot to think about. I'm just getting used to the idea of having a newborn. All this other stuff feels like an avalanche." He silenced her with more kisses till she melted against him, distracted from worrying.

Eventually her thoughts returned to the immediate practicalities. "You're going to start the Blake mop up. Lots of travel. How can you deal with any of this stuff when–"

"The internet is a marvelous thing. And, well, I've been thinking about these things for awhile now."

She looked up, eyebrows raised. "Since when?"

"The eight months since we got together."

She breathed out, and relaxed in his arms again. She was getting better at _letting_ him handle things. Despite three decades of doing everything herself and taking care of everyone around her, it was easy to believe Patrick Jane could take care of things, would take care of them. Would take care _of her._ She no longer had to do it all herself. It was comforting.

"Jane?"

"Hmm?"

"You need to leave a sperm sample with Marbric in case you're out of town when they need to fertilize my eggs."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Miss Practicality! I will. Thought I'd do it tomorrow. Apparently frozen is nearly as good as fresh. ... Umm, you're planning to keep in touch with Al as she goes through the IVF process, right?"

"Of course! It's our kid she'll be incubating. Besides – I want to be as much a part of it as possible. Still seems surreal that we'll have a baby without my being pregnant."

"When the Blake members realize we're hunting them, they may strike back. Will you talk with Marbric and make sure Ally's records hide any connection to us? And vice versa? Just to be safe, you two shouldn't be seen at the clinic together."

Lisbon puffed her cheeks out as she exhaled. "Jane, this isn't Red John. Blake never obsessively stalked you like Red John did."

"Don't you think those are sensible precautions anyway? Keep Al safe – and our baby?"

"Yes. I just don't want you obsessing about it. Okay?"

"Yes," he kissed her, "Teresa."

They finally rose and got ready for work.

**Cho's Team**

Mykaela Crenshaw appeared in the bullpen, a few minutes after the start of the work day, crisp footsteps and brisk movements marking her arrival. She was short and slender with a dark‑chocolate complexion, delicate features and straightened black hair pulled back into a bun.

"Agent Cho?" she asked, arriving at his desk.

He rose and shook her hand. "Yes." Nodding his head to each in turn, "Agent Rigsby, Agent Van Pelt, and Consultant Patrick Jane. We'll meet in the conference room."

After they were all seated, Cho explained the interview process. He let Rigsby begin, preferring to watch first.

"You've been a medic in the army in Afghanistan, an LA nurse, and a cop for the last three years. Why the changes?" Rigsby opened. Jane thought, _Predictable question. Answer should be illuminating._

"Saving lives appeals to me. The army was my ticket to an education. Nursing was an obvious path in civilian life after the army–"

Cho interjected, "Why not stick with the military?"

"I wasn't sure how much good we were doing over there. Afghanistan was ... rough."

Jane. "How?"

"Everything. War zone. Culture. Poverty. I lost confidence in US leadership, US foreign policy."

"Is that your call?"

Her eyes flashed although she replied calmly. "US foreign policy isn't. But _I_ decide what's a worthwhile way to spend my life." _Intense and controlled, rather than aggressive_, Cho noted.

Rigsby continued smoothly, "So why walk away from nursing to become a cop?"

"I worked in a downtown LA emergency room – trauma center. I got tired of picking up the pieces when people were beat up, shot, raped, stabbed. Too many OD's, too many needless deaths. I thought being a cop could help _prevent_ some of that."

Van Pelt weighed in, all too familiar with the limitations of law enforcement in dealing with urban pathologies. "Did it?"

"That's why I'm here. A beat cop or even city detective can help. But the career criminals, corner dealers, pimps and gangs are just symptoms. The CBI goes after the people who call the shots. Corruption at high levels that undermines street-level efforts."

Van Pelt frowned. "A lot of those problems stem from broken families and a lack of jobs. Do you think the CBI can affect those things?"

"Agent Van Pelt, I didn't grow up in a ghetto, but nearby. One reason cops are so ineffective is the corruption. Crooked cops take bribes or shake down store owners. The high street crime drives away the businesses and their jobs. Cops get a pass when they hurt innocent people." All four flashed back to Reede Smith's story of Blake covering it up when he killed a 12-year-old girl. "If cops were honest, people might be willing to testify and help get rid of the bad guys. I was impressed your team exposed the Blake corruption in law enforcement." _Driven to make a difference_. As he expected, the interview confirmed Jane's initial take from her file.

Cho was next. "The SCU is often asked to solve murders involving influential people. What do you think of that?"

"I'm okay with it. Power, money always talk. If the victim is rich or influential, the perp probably is, too. One fewer bad apple in a position of power." Jane suppressed a grin. _Correct grammar! Hell is having a cold spell._

Jane asked the next question. "What do you read?"

"Everything. I'll read cereal boxes if there's nothing else."

Jane didn't bother to suppress his grin and noted the approval in Cho's eyes.

Van Pelt decided to play "bad cop." "Your grades at the academy were nothing special. Why do you think you can cut it here?"

Crenshaw leaned back, refusing to react. "I was moonlighting as a nurse to support myself and my younger brother. I didn't have the study time to ace the tests, but I _did_ learn the material. My records as a medic, nurse and cop are good. Look at my results in the real world. I _do _deliver."

Van Pelt pressed in with another question. "Ninety percent of CBI agents are male. A large majority is white. Any concerns there?"

"The army, medical field and PD are all male-dominated. Been there, already dealt with that. I've found I'm usually treated fairly once I show I can do the job. I'm no shrinking violet."

Van Pelt grinned and couldn't help responding, "Oh, I believe that."

Rigsby followed up, deliberately pushing that potential sore spot. "You're short and slight. How do you cope with the physical aspects of the job?"

She smiled wryly, "Effectively. Look at my record. I carried a 50-pound pack in the army for 20-mile marches. I did my job as a nurse and cop – both of which involve _physically_ dealing with larger people. And one of my hobbies is judo."

This time Cho raised the question that was more important for his team than any other team. "What do you think of working with a civilian consultant who doesn't come from a law enforcement background?"

"I've read about your team, Agent Cho. You get results. I respect and can work with anyone who's effective." _She did her homework_, observed Jane. _It's only recently 'Cho's' team._

"If nailing a perp would require bending the rules, what do you do? Honor your oath to uphold the law? Or get the perp?"

"I take my oath seriously. But I recognize the real world is complicated. Before I bend any rules, I have to have absolute trust in my teammates. I need to know a suspect isn't being railroaded to make the close rate look good, suck up to a boss, or blunt political pressure. The evidence has to be there to prove guilt in court."

"So it isn't always black and white?" Cho didn't betray his regret at his choice of words.

Crenshaw was unfazed. "I stick with the letter of the law as a rule. But I can deal with ambiguity, Agent. Following orders from the CBI director would have prevented you from cracking the Blake Association. Sounds like a necessary trade-off to me."

The meeting broke up. After making a pit stop and getting coffee, Crenshaw did the individual interviews. Rigsby was easiest. He was pleased she liked sports and was eager to do the job. Van Pelt made it clear she would welcome another woman on the team so long as Crenshaw pulled her weight and didn't reinforce negative stereotypes about women in law enforcement. Crenshaw was puzzled but let pass a comment that her medical background would be a big plus with Jane around. Jane talked about anything _except _law enforcement, topics ranging from science fiction to international economic development to weird US subcultures. Cho grilled her on investigative approaches, evidence, and teamwork. She welcomed those tough questions as an indication he was seriously considering her. Cho promised her a decision by week's end, and confirmed she would be available immediately after graduating from the academy.

After Crenshaw left, Cho gathered his team for their impressions. Jane looked around and grinned.

Ignoring him, Cho asked, "Rigsby, what do you think?"

"Yeah. She'd fit in, pull her weight." Then he looked vaguely guilty, "Uh, I know she's small but that wasn't wha–"

"We get it Wayne," Grace kindly interrupted. "I think she'd be good. And I like that she offers something extra with her medical background."

"Jane?"

He just grinned. "She's read _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_. She has well-reasoned opinions about international development. And she's skeptical of politicians. Flexible. Smart. Explosives in a small package. What's not to like?"

Cho finally weighed in. "I think we have our team member."

Jane peered at him, then said, "I definitely think _you_ have _your_ team member, Cho." Cho ignored his emphasis on "you" and "your."

"Cho, aren't we going to interview any more?"

"Rigs, you and Van Pelt check out everything in her file. Verify that record she cites. Talk to the people she worked with. If she checks out, why waste our time interviewing more? The rest don't compare as well even on paper."

"Okay, Boss."

They each turned to their tasks. As Cho started clearing his desk for his meeting with Mancini, Jane asked, "Whatever happened to Elise? Haven't heard you mention her recently."

"Not your business."

Van Pelt looked up. "I heard she transferred to LA for a big promotion."

"Ah! I see."

Cho stared at him. "There's nothing to see."

"Of course." Jane grinned and left for lunch.

**Cho's Team and Mancini's Team**

After both had gotten coffee, Cho and Mancini sat down at the small table in his FBI office.

"Mancini, you've been working with Abbott's teams on Blake. How should we tackle this?"

"After the crap Jane pulled over Lorelei Martins, working together will be a pain in the ass for both of us. Why volunteer for the grief?"

"The past is over. I can be professional if you can."

Mancini exhaled loudly through his nose. "Meaning I can't?"

"Not what I said," Cho replied calmly. "Look. I have no agenda except mopping up Blake. Abbott's gotten most but not all Blake members. Merton Williams in CBI Forensics almost killed one of my team members a few weeks ago. In the CBI building. Self preservation."

Mancini abruptly rubbed his jaw. "Okay. Keep that jackass away from me and maybe this project will produce results. –I suggest we start with the largest cities and work our way down. Wherever possible, get the mayor to order the top law-enforcement types to submit to interviews. We roll into town and check out the top men in the PD, ME's office, DA's office and, if we can get them, criminal justices."

"We're gonna kiss a lot of frogs to ID the ones we want. Have Jane camp out on the other side of the one-way mirrors, at least for the big fish. Have my team focus on anyone he fingers as likely Blake."

"I'm not going to take Jane's word for it. I want my own man observing, too."

"Okay. How about lower level Blake members?"

"I've got the manpower to follow the leads from one to the next. Track them all down. So we'll handle that."

"I can live with that. What's your thinking when we don't get cooperation to grill the top dogs?"

"I dunno. Without reasonable cause–"

"There's no law against mentioning Blake in a public setting. Have one of my team or yours mention Blake while Jane observes out of sight. It's the quickest way to find out who's worth a closer look."

Mancini frowned. "You're selling Jane like some magic lie detector. I think he's a fake and trouble maker."

"We're not going to resolve this by arguing. How about trying it the way I suggest? We'll use Jane for observing, either in an interrogation or surreptitiously. No contact with the targets, at least not till we're sure they're Blake. Let him prove his worth."

"We'll try it your way for LA. If he doesn't produce results or you can't control him, he's off this project."

"Okay."

They turned to the detailed planning needed for their first city, LA. Mancini gave Cho the relevant files to review. They split up the targets to research beforehand. Mancini would contact the mayor and anyone else who could help compel cooperation. Each organization would be responsible for the logistics – getting people and equipment to LA by Monday to start the interviews and follow the leads. Cho reminded himself to tell Jane his agreement with Mancini. Jane would get only one chance with Mancini.

**Jane and Lisbon**

Jane pilfered a french fry from Lisbon's plate. "C'mon, Teresa. Dream a little. What kind of house do you want to raise our family in?"

Still grumpy, but gradually warming up to Jane's playful mood, "Okay, Jane. No one is even pregnant yet, but I'll play along. ... I always wanted a house with lots of light, big kitchen, wrap porch. Bedroom for each kid. Oh, and when they're a little older, we'll need a family room or play room where the rugrats can make noise to their hearts' content ... without driving us mad."

"My sentimental mother-to-be!" He took a bite of his chicken piccata. "How about the site? Where do you want to live? What does the outside look like?"

Lisbon leaned back and sipped her wine, eyes closed. "I always wanted a big yard. Hated being on top of neighbors where I grew up in Chicago. Room for the kids to play. For a dog or two–"

"And cats?"

She smiled, "Cat person? Yeah, cats too."

"Actually both. They each have their charms."

"Anyhow, um, if I ever have time, I like to plant flowers, maybe even have a vegetable garden-"

"Herb garden?"

She peered at him. "Just how big is this yard going to be?"

"We're dreaming, not being practical right now. I'd like trees for some shade. Big trees for that hammock I always wanted."

"You _would_ want a hammock. Anyhow, I'd like it to be pretty private–"

"Ooh. Nude sunbathing."

Her forehead wrinkled. "Jane! Mind out of the gutter! The kids are playing nearby."

He grinned. "Okay. –Pool?"

She shrugged. "Uh, I'd worry about kids drowning. It's one of the biggest causes of–"

"Daydreams, Lisbon. Not nightmares! What if the pool waits till aforementioned kids are a little older – eight, or ten, say?"

She grinned, "Yeah, before we're too ancient to enjoy it, too." Noticing that her plate was somehow empty, she picked up the dessert menu.

"Leave it. It's still light and there's a place I'd like to show you."

"But dessert–"

"We'll get ice cream on the way home. C'mon. We won't have a chance to do this for awhile when I'm on the road." He hurriedly threw down money to cover the bill and hustled her out the door.

Twenty minutes later he had parked outside a wrought iron fence that surrounded a turn-of-the-century – the 20th century – estate. The street was quiet, lined with tall, spreading trees and stately mansions.

"Jane, that house, that _mansion_ doesn't look anything like what we were talking about."

"Of course not. You're missing the forest and the trees. The mansion is owned and occupied by a lovely dowager who is, shall we say, pushing the limits of the human life span."

"So?"

"This land is rare. It's 20 wooded acres in the heart of the city. Don't know if you noticed, but it's only fifteen minutes from the CBI."

"But the whole neighborhood is mansions. _Old_ mansions. Our kids wouldn't have anyone to play with."

"Look closer, Teresa. The older residents are literally dying off. There are new families with young kids in half the houses on this street."

"But I still don't want to live in a mansion. Not my style, Jane."

"I've had tea with Mrs. Lundberg on several occasions. She has held out selling her house and all the land because she couldn't bear the thought of it being subdivided into small lots for new homes."

"Twenty acres in the heart of Sacramento would cost millions, Jane!"

"Tens of millions, actually. Except–" He raised one graceful forefinger, "she'll sell the 20 acres to me for a cool million if we agree to a restriction for just one house."

"Jane. What are you thinking? The land would cost a million _and_ we'd still have to build a house? We can't afford–"

He kissed her silent. "Yes, we can."

Softly, a bit shaken, "Jane, we're starting a family and I don't have even the basic facts about our _joint_ finances, wills, anything. How can I feel secure raising a family without knowing anything?"

"You can't. That's why we'll talk about it when we get home." Turning to look at the swath of wooded and fenced land, "While we're here, please let's look at this. C'mon. I'll introduce you to Mrs. Lundberg."

Lisbon reluctantly let him guide her up the walk to the imposing front door. They were greeted by a warm, very old woman whose mind and wit belied her age.

"Patrick. I'm glad you could come by. And you must be–"

Jane introduced her, "Teresa Lisbon, my partner and soon to be wife." Lisbon gave him a skeptical glance.

"Pretty sure of yourself, sonny. Your lady is a lot more grounded that you are, young man."

He grinned. "You're just jealous."

"Damn straight I am. You should've come along fifty years ago. –Hell, even forty and I'd chase you down."

She ushered them into a sitting room half the size of their whole apartment. She poured tea for Jane and herself and – after a sharp glance at Lisbon – had a servant bring a cup of coffee.

"Patrick's been trying to talk me into selling the 20 acres next to my home." Lisbon looked at Jane in dismay. "Oh, don't worry young lady. We'll serve each others' purposes. You see, I just want the land to remain undeveloped. Except for one house. My heirs are lobbying against selling it."

"Mrs. Lundberg, if you're not comfortable selling it–"

"Exactly the opposite. My heirs want it to be part of my estate so _they_ can develop it and make money." She waved a bony, papery hand dismissively. "They already have more money than they know what to do with. I'm going to do what I want. I have fond memories of my kids playing in those woods. Hell, of _me_ playing in them. It's worth something to me to preserve that. And you and Patrick would be another young family to breathe life into this geriatric ward we have going here."

After they finished their beverages and tea cookies (_The cookies are made with tea, but I won't hold that against them,_ thought Lisbon), the lady showed them out the back door and encouraged them to walk the wooded land. The lot was a triangular shape. Jane noted that would let them center a house in the middle, maximizing the distance from every lot line for privacy. In five minutes, Lisbon felt she was walking through a fairy tale setting. Tall, graceful trees, little underbrush, random clearings covered with grass and dappled sunlight. Jane pointed out a doe and fawn, which placidly walked away and disappeared among the trees before Lisbon could react. The land sloped to a stream at the rear. Jane began to paint a picture with words, pointing out a good location for their house, a gently sloping hill with a southern exposure for gardens, how the 20 acres afforded privacy despite being located in the heart of the city. The sun finally dipped below the treetops. Deepening twilight reminded them to bid Mrs. Lundberg farewell and they left for home.

Jane remembered the ice cream on the way home because Jane remembered everything. They settled in on the couch with their bowls.

Lisbon relaxed against him, thinking about their evening. The dowager was a character, memorable and fun. She no longer had even a particle of worry that Jane might be taking advantage of that tough old bird. The land was as beautiful as Jane had promised and a mere 15 minutes from work. A wave of warmth washed over her at the thought of designing a house,_ their_ house, for their family. She at last was beginning to feel comfortable with the prospect of a baby - rather than the distant, abstract notion of motherhood. Now she needed to become comfortable with all the unfamiliar pieces they would have to put in place for a family, rather than just living with Jane.

"So, love, penny for your thoughts?"

She sighed, slightly uncomfortable with the topic. "Uh, shouldn't we know about each others' finances to - to provide for our child's future?"

He breathed out, silent for a moment, savoring a spoonful of ice cream. "First things first. You know I'm pretty traditional about families?"

She smiled, "I'll give you that. Although that may be your_ only_ traditional facet."

"Promise you'll marry me, and well before Ally delivers our child."

"I've already promised to marry you, Patrick. The time–"

"Hey. Justice of the peace and a few hours is all we need. Our child deserves the legal protections that come with marriage. And, frankly, I don't ever want to face any legal hassles as your unmarried partner and baby's father."

That gave her pause. She hadn't thought about the tenuous legal position unwed fathers could find themselves in. "You should never have to. We can get married if we keep it short and simple."

"Maybe invite the team to be our witnesses, fly your brothers in if you'd like. Later we can have any kind of wedding you want when you have the time to enjoy it."

"So, we'll marry." She marveled that the thought no longer scared her. Eight months of living with Jane had vanquished those concerns. Jane hadn't disappeared, hadn't left the CBI after Red John. In fact, he and Cho had developed a surprisingly good working relationship. And between Red John's death and Cho's influence, Jane seemed to be taking far fewer risks than he had in the past. She supposed it helped that her friend and partner and lover was generally happier and more at peace. She surfaced from her reverie to pay attention to the conversation.

"... need wills, too, but marriage eliminates one worry while we get around to doing wills."

"If we have a child, don't we need life insurance? I know we make decent salaries, but I'm not sure I could afford the property taxes on that land and a house!"

"We don't need life insurance. Here–" He rose and brought back paper and pencil. "This is a list of the money I have stashed in various bank accounts." Her eyes widened at the seven figure total. "Selling the Malibu house will pay for the land and new house."

"Oh, Jane," she shook her head slightly, anxious about discussing one of his many emotional trip-wires.

"It's time. We killed the bastard nearly a year ago and I could never live there again. What better way to honor Angie and Charlie than sell and use the money for our family?"

She searched his face. To her relief, he was serious but not upset, not haunted as he had been so many of the years she had known him. "It's completely up to you. Sell it only if that's what you really want."

"I do," he said quietly. A thought flitted across his features as he read her expression. Amusement quirked the corners of his mouth. "Hey," he said, looking down at the paper. "No worrying about the money being legit. I paid taxes on every penny I earned. And the bank accounts are legal as well. Al Capone's take down for tax evasion made a big impression when I was eight."

"Great. Patrick Jane was thinking about income taxes and Al Capone when he was eight. You should come with an instruction manual. You know – all the weird features of my new life partner."

He kissed her. "It's called a husband, love. And you already know all my flaws."

"And virtues," she added quietly, reaching and stroking his face.

"As ideas for our house bubble up, e-mail them to me. Grace can print them out if need be."

"You'll be working 13, 14 hours a day, Patrick. You won't have time. This will be a long slog. Are you going to eat and sleep? Or will I have to worry and nag?"

"It will give me something relaxing and pleasurable to think about if I can't sleep. Promise?"

She shrugged diffidently. "Yeah, I can do that. I'm kinda enjoying thinking about it, too."

They lay comfortably nestled together. He leaned back, Lisbon's solid weight warm against his chest, both their legs stretched out on the couch. Dinner, thoughts of their future family, the ice cream, and their combined warmth conspired to lull them into drowsing contentedly, secure in holding and being held. They finally rose and turned in before the night ticked back to morning and a new day's work.


End file.
